nothing
is as comforting
as an animal
who loves you
the trust inherent
when they fall asleep
precariously perched on your lap
or cuddle up
so close
they are lierally on top of your legs
and they feel emotionally comfortable enough
to completely pass out
dreaming eyes
running feeties
wagging tails
in their sleep
purring until you too
are dreaming
it’s a comfort i wish i could give others
but i’ll just have to count myself lucky
to have built it in my
hassle animals
a little puppy
bonked my face last night —
a big old thwack
right at the forehead
breaking my glasses [almost]
and giving me the slightest extra pigmentation
underneath my right eye
with a little red lump above the brow.
and i can’t even be mad
because we riled up the pup,
and i stuck my face right beside her
tough tough cranium
but she calmed when she needed to,
and cuddled up beside me
as i waited for pain killers
and ice packs
and comfort from my kip
and she is still a good good dog.
i feel a yearning to yearn
a desire to want
a longing to feel like i want to feel
anything at all
spotted lantern flies
cursed our existence
outside
one year ago
this year there are still some
but they seem few
and far-between
and i’m hoping that means
that we as new yorkers
got together and destroyed
[/are still destroying]
an invasive species
that hurts our ecosystem.
as many faults as i can find with nyc
from living here for five years
that is one thing i gotta hand us —
when we have a task
to better our neighborhoods
that we can all get behind — we do it
and we do it
good.
re-reading my terrible
obsession books
and loving
every
minute
my back
has ached
these last two days
and i woke up this morning
less back-pain-y
and more everying-pain-y
so i suppose that’s
progress?
wearing my Grandmama’s jean jacket shirt,
the one that was probably too big for her, too,
with a stain on the pocket that she hid with some cool embroidery —
a design around the initial she went by
[her full name was “Mary Jane” but she went by “Jane”
for as long as any of us can remember]
and because i’ve started going by my initials,
i knew i could easily add a little “H” on one side
and a little “F” on the other of this giant “J”
and it would look intentional, like the rest of the design,
and i could claim this as my own —
and wear it not as a hand-me-down
from the Grandmama where i got my middle name, but as a
continuation of the lineage
of Jane
and J
and the art of embroidery
and family
and everything…
this morning’s
morning pages
are especially randomized
and i don’t know if that’s because
there were none yesterday
or if it’s because i’m still half sleepy-state
or if the vibe has been
stale
these last few days/weeks/maybe a month now
but i cannot
cannot
cannot abide by
poetry that doesn’t make me
wonder
at my own psyche.
i would like to learn how to be less careful
less risk-averse
more risk-taking
more prone to
having fun
letting loose
and just
go
every now and then i get scared
off from sharing this poetry blog because
what if my best poems are behind me
and those i invite to read only see now and upcoming
and never ever see the good stuff?
kipventures 