A Poem

the blood grew violent 

in the seeded pear, trillions of mysteries 

coalesced into form 

if there was a word 

that became flesh, it was shine or glory 

or let’s flower 

let’s generate power like magnolias 

blooming among the minefields 

and like that, a pencil 

worked under furious light, thoughts 

stirred in the cranial womb, vigilant

for the right milk, the exact pond 

feeding so many villagers already  

the air clung unnatural, and then 

there you were, among sassafras and existence

taking in the odors of ink and dust 

the sober architecture of stanzas stiffening

 

until we were strong enough 

to vandalize the night 

with a first read, a privilege  

to praise your exodus 

from this bag of electric salt

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Weekly Scribblings #32: I Am Explaining A Few Things