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25 Letters

I bought

the excuses

I gave

(in a rush)

for Christmas post

pone

meant so corny,

dontcha think?

(slow conclusion)

 

I rapped

them up

in flowery prose

(colored purple)

and

(watermarked)

paper

inked blue

–w so many strings

attached–

 

I recycled

surprisingly few

accents

hued

red

&

green

.

a winter’s afternoon


 
as days grow short

you have to wonder. . .

will it be sudden and unexpected?

long and lingering?

peaceful or terrifying?

–the only certainties—

you can’t love without losing

–you can’t live without dying.

the Me, Myself, & Hymn (Him)

there’s a me

I can’t see–

who’s

Wholly Spirit

there’s the

I

around whom I orbit

(too much)

the Sun

then there’s

myself

–who I hope you perceive

–and wish that I were

(yet already am)

an imagery complete

–God

Listen Between the Lines


 
she talks in cursive, mainly,

a third grade throwback

of cursing conversive
 
 
 
that tittles i’s

in hearty

rhetoric.

red Caps of

illegible drawl

–girly–

–surly–

& curly

cued

conversation,

overdone in

~looping edicts~

& unnecessary crosses

scrawled, and squalling,

and me without

white space to spare…

white out obsolete,

and X’cised from scripted curriculum.

she’s a super girl,

though

–so

she tells me—

a truly super girl

lost in translation

and her missing booth

in which to change…

a third-rate

spinoff,

& anecdotal antidote

to distract a cryptic Knight.

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