An accidental poem from this article. I’ve come to believe that a lot of people equate comfort with complacency, calmness with laziness. If you’re happy, you’re not working hard enough. You’ve stopped striving.
Sweeping up the last traces of you, just now, I pulled out the furniture to find stray tufts of fur in levitating pompoms behind the end table and the curtains. This would be how I say goodbye and a what voluntary goodbye it was. Goodbye, cat. See you later, maybe, cat. Each sweeping motion, castingContinue reading “VOLUNTARY GOODBYE”
I was pondering about what to make for dinner I can’t quite get over, not yet, what it was like to have a mother who made me dinner so I didn’t have to have these thoughts Can you even imagine, now coming home to find dinner conjuring scents under foggy glass lids? And the mystery:Continue reading “WHAT’S FOR DINNER?”
Oh, have it be good the way I wrestle through reality and pesky expectation. Like nights when the moon dwarfs streetlight and makes the grass glisten all on its own. Have it stand on its own. And the way a hardcover novel has thicker pages – you won’t look as scrawny when I’m finished with you.
An accidental poem by Zupadream’s Kristin. we think we’re the kings & queens of the world we can’t even see what passes by because we’re flying so fast.