everything feeds process

I am so behind on posting (and sending) these bad boys. I’m hoping to catch up over the next few days.

Give Me America Anytime

We have the best government
money can buy. We  are rich

in values we barely know, in exported
aspirations we mouth silently. Our wallets

are empty. Still we are flush
with the rush of purchase

We imagine peeling twenties off a pile
like peeling the skin

off of a banana. We have yet to understand
the value of buying

(our carts full of necessities)
with a currency made of air.

I am participating in the August Poetry Postcard Challenge this month. Each day, I send a new postcard with a poem on the back to a recipient on the group list.  We began on July 27, but I am posting these a few days late, so that my pen pal can see them first. Enjoy!

Sifting Millet

Seeds get stuck in my nails.
I find myself counting grains
to calm myself. I am baffled
by the sheer numbers. I think
of grain elevators dotting Iowa
filled to bursting with seeds this size.
I imagine fields that stretch
state line to state line, with stalks
that will be harvested and broken down
into seeds. I think of the thousands
in this bowl alone. How can I live
with all this abundance
and still spend so much time wanting?

Written in response to a postcard poem to me by Bobbie Ogletree.

I am participating in the August Poetry Postcard Challenge this month. Each day, I send a new postcard with a poem on the back to a recipient on the group list.  We began on July 27, but I am posting these a few days late, so that my pen pal can see them first. Enjoy!

On Working

Somewhere there is satisfaction
for something other than the close
of another interminable day.  There is

the sweat we carry in our skin, the stench
of our effort.  There is the heft
of the body, the tug of the line, the waking
from an hour long nap, only to find

that you hooked
a many toothed monster and he
is never getting away.

I am participating in the August Poetry Postcard Challenge this month. Each day, I send a new postcard with a poem on the back to a recipient on the group list.  We began on July 27, but I am posting these a few days late, so that my pen pal can see them first. Enjoy!

The Woman I Wanted to Be

carefully picks tobacco leaves
from the tip of her tongue. She doesn’t care
that her nails are uneven and undone.
She wears black eyeshadow so often, residue
lingers on her naked lids. She doesn’ t work
behind a desk. Instead, she litters lines
of poetry on the floor of her studio,
knowing that no one will pick them up.

This is also in response to my Mindfulness Month exercise on the self-portrait as I want to be seen.

I am participating in the August Poetry Postcard Challenge this month. Each day, I send a new postcard with a poem on the back to a recipient on the group list.  We began on July 27, but I am posting these a few days late, so that my pen pal can see them first. Enjoy!

In Some Places

We erase faces. Carve spaces
where noses and ears once rested.
We are not arrested. We are lifted
on shoulders, gifted with fat jewels
of praise. We are proud
of what we erase.
Even in the absence of features
we recognize
our small and disfigured victories.

- inspired by the August 9th cover of Time Magazine

Sent July 31

I am participating in the August Poetry Postcard Challenge this month. Each day, I send a new postcard with a poem on the back to a recipient on the group list.  We began on July 27, but I am posting these a few days late, so that my pen pal can see them first. Enjoy!

Free to Pass

(in response to a poetry postcard I received from Mary Ruth Donnelly)

The path you are on
lists to the left, is covered
in brambles and bends
into the dark. Even though
you are walking on familiar
ground, your feet slip easily
into well-worn grooves.

Never fear:
you are safe on your journey.

Sent July 31.