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Water Babies
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June 24






Timeless babies bobble in their underwater positions.  Voiceless cherubs bounce and wink the river of their wisdom streams to my feeble mind.  The noise of silence wrinkles and tinkles as the waves crash soundlessly above.  My head fills; I must surface but beg not to lose my connection when I break the tension of top-side sobriety; I turn these angels to screened-off faithfuls.  I owe all I have to these aquatic infants.  Every hope, all my fear is held to test in the face of swimming heroines and their embryonic grave.



Read a poem to a plant.




Living as a Megaphone



He whispers in my ear,

I part my lips and let it all run out.

Vacant tube of a thing,

his words pour through me

nothing to stem the flow,

He hides behind me, the bully that he is.


I stand with rings painted bright concentric, bold.

I am nothing;

 I know it

and don’t need him to tell me,


My inactions speak louder than his words.

He is not the one who bore right through my core;

he is just the little worm who is living there secure.

I will have to purge him out to be his megaphone no more.