Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.
Somewhere the party never stopped
Somewhere the 7th floor of the Sheraton
in Madison, Wisconsin is still shaking its head
Gathering its tables and chairs up from outside
Somewhere there are still packed music venues
With sweaty teenagers hanging on every note
By just word of mouth and zero promotion
Somewhere the ice cream man ain’t talkin bout love
I’ve never been to Disneyland
But I know what it’s like to be disappointed
Mickey is just some dude
Hi, my name is Cara and I am a poemoholic
It’s only been 24 hours since my last sonnet
And it’s been 13 days since the last time I’ve
used the words coruscant and tattered in a line
I’m a collector of highs
Like a nano journalist
Clung to the necks of crows
I am murders of knowledge
That comes only by scavenging
Through trash and old cigarettes
To find a shiny thing worth holding
I am the art of the cuttlefish
My love is an abattoir
And if my heart was glass
Nobody would ever come in
If you are brave enough to look
You’d see the carnage of my intention
Splattered across bedroom floors
I am this moment
Fawn eyed creatures
Like me have no chance
My ocean targeted. Dredged
Every sea dollar spent
My hiding spots albescent
Snowing and pregnant with plastic
I hide out during the workday
Sitting on my gender neutral throne
My island at my job. I write poems
While pretending to excrete
While thinking these words
For every balloon
there is a heart
For every star
there is the dark
For every boss
there is a hustle
For every death
there is an ocean
For every storm
there is hope
He was born in a small town
A cave to be exact
Birthed in scrawled glyphics that created a club then a bat
Forged some fire later the match
Centuries tatter later
Found work as a compass
Navigating maps
Eventually went to college
Studied biology minored in math
Got straight A’s in physics
Graduated cum laude
Took his first real job
As an atomic bomb
He was let go
The shimmer of tragedy like a haloed Belladonna morning of alabasterine dusted pounce. A snowy, dappled blanket of zagged inches anew on top of at least half a horse’s leg or more. Air crystalline, frozen breath of ghouls. Visible in speech, open mouthed, flared. Impossible to move without plowing through. Drifts of frozen water chanced to exist, hindrance blocked driveway on this windy, Wyoming moving day. My Pa fresh off just retiring, bought a house and an acre out of the city. This was his day.
There is this entire galaxy in me
Hidden, vast, nebulus, and expanding
Somedays I feel like I am going to burst
And puke my stars out onto the sidewalk
Then everyone will see what dark matter
And pulsars look like viscid and drowning
In a litre of orange juice, oatmeal and flax
Clinquant melodies of scattering leaves and seed Soughing plaintively between sunburned hollows Like perfumed tiny tourists from a passing charabanc Their lilacs’ scent of sweet sillage lingers for a puff Leaving painted imaginary doodles of agitated air behind Foregathering in the wakes of napes, and marooned nooks Of plumped and ripened orange bursting splurt lilyContinue reading “Summer Air”
I once loved the city and its gleaming promise
Of slicked back, urbane haute cultured praxis
Circus sideshows, embonpoint and spectacle
Where cinereous clad clouds hover like buzzards
I am happy to announce my poem, “The Fox In Me” is now published and posted at Ephemeral Elegies.
In moonlit alley
Ashy clotted arms
Tangled silhouettes
Gather like crows
Rundown carousels
And jilted roller coasters
A perpetual creepshow
Of attractive nuisances
Like bare veined angels
With come fuck me eyes
Pinhole sized pupils flash
Dirty wheedle smiles
Her face weathers with patina
A spavined statue left vulnerable
To past atrocities, disappointment
And the relentless passage of time
Like the portrait of Dorian Grey
Whose worn canvas painted smile
Became a reflection of men’s sins
Turned farther and farther down
Dressing up for a date beginning, middle and final examinations, midterms, midwifery, DNA tests I flunked the last one I took, yep still a big Y on the, Marc! Set! Grow! a pair of aces beats my queens, and kings and guillotines sluiced deer entrails are offal but make bloody omens beware the ides ofContinue reading “Word Salad”
When the god’s climb down
from their languishing pedestals
And take off their crowns
After they clock out for the day
Run to the store for cigarettes
Relax and unpack their attaches
I burned our love letters last night Our song playing repeat in my head It sounded like a funeral dirge Orbits cockeyed and slowed, gravity waning Like two lullaby murdered blue jays Tumbling from tangerine scented clouds Fettered to cute, tiny pink and red ribbons That were strangling our necks Millions of molten, burned outContinue reading “Burning Icarus”
I feel their narrowing sets of ghastly eyes dance and dart
Obscured in the hazy smoke and darkened theater corners
My ears are met with the empty sounds of hollow reverberation
And the rat-a-tat-tat of the loose end of a film reel rolling
The Tigress Awakens 