A hair in my pancake

 

Pulled a hair out of my pancake

mine

it

no, she

was met with a laugh

coming into this world

for the first time?

no

she has emerged anew

changed alongside days

regenerations

patterns

and baking instructions.

-D

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La Vie En Rose

Across the way

she waltz’s

to music only she

can hear

La Vie En Rose

The party rages on

and

In the room over

a conversation

that is foreign to her

is upheld

she stops the waltz

to listen in

its no use

she does not speak

the language

It resumes

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

dada da da daa

slow motion she swings

in a dry place

has anyone ever felt

so alone?

-D

The parade (Elation)

What could this look like? From the outside –

A woman, baked and chattering with a glass of wine next to her.

I guess to the National, to the dentists, to the ex lovers –

It might look rather bleak.

The weather man might post a storm watch.

All to little effect, the woman continues to sip

and ponder in the fading eve.

Only that morning had she stood amongst

a crowd of parade watchers.

Feeling as if she were a smiling ghost.

The waves of everyday spontaneity, she is ill fit

to handle.

But cloaked in sound and performance –

the ghost looks into her own window and does not see

a bleak picture

it is not bleak at all.

The woman is alive

she has failed, witnessed beauty,

and she is alive.

 

-D

 

(I know this one flows a little weird – it’s because I changed a piece of prose I had written earlier into a poem.)

Hope you guys are having a great day!

Melons

A cigarette

leaves a funny taste in my mouth

especially when

cold air

touches my teeth

and I assume

someone is following me

A righteous pile of

melons

sits in my wake

and

almost trips me up

What a sly dog

you have been to me

 time

passing with no faults

and so fast

you know

where my buttons are

you know

how to make me start up

again

Please make me

start up

again

Mourning

time stands still

in my putrid

morning box

a show

a cave

where all acts

are frozen

i let hours crawl

and songs repeat

dreams crash

so that i

needn’t get up

and see to my list

mornings

feel separate

my room

a compartment

sounds escaped

feel like messages sent

to another dimension

giving me away

do not wake

my deaf

and dumb

morning