< Issue 7 >
Poets
by Elaine Body
We do not plant broken promises in our front yards
And hope for fucking flowers
And despite what people may assume
We are not drunk off melancholy
The water is safe
The water is safe
There may not be a rhyme or reason
For the words that escape out of us
Kind of like in Aliens
Sometimes it is grotesque
And we have no choice but to face
The blood splatter
I happen to bite into my best ideas
In the shower when I am stripped
Of all clothing that might hold a piece of paper
And a pen
And then the idea is gone
Unless I am lucky enough to hold onto it
Long enough for it to find a home
More permanent than the tip of my tongue
We do not scream and yell
And dance naked in the woods
Shouting at the top of our lungs
Some of us are terrified of the words
That might escape our mouths
And the faces watching for what monsters
Escape our teeth
Multiple rooms might be covered in books of paper
In words
From a million moments
And a million pens
Because some things
Are true
Poets
by Elaine Body
We do not plant broken promises in our front yards
And hope for fucking flowers
And despite what people may assume
We are not drunk off melancholy
The water is safe
The water is safe
There may not be a rhyme or reason
For the words that escape out of us
Kind of like in Aliens
Sometimes it is grotesque
And we have no choice but to face
The blood splatter
I happen to bite into my best ideas
In the shower when I am stripped
Of all clothing that might hold a piece of paper
And a pen
And then the idea is gone
Unless I am lucky enough to hold onto it
Long enough for it to find a home
More permanent than the tip of my tongue
We do not scream and yell
And dance naked in the woods
Shouting at the top of our lungs
Some of us are terrified of the words
That might escape our mouths
And the faces watching for what monsters
Escape our teeth
Multiple rooms might be covered in books of paper
In words
From a million moments
And a million pens
Because some things
Are true
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