i am living in dreams
this morning:
asking my Grandmama all the questions i thought of
at her memorial;
snuggling with my Mom, refusing to question why
her dying would be a test
that i passed
after six months of her gone;
exploring a Gaza un-riddled with holes;
and persuading governments
Not
to fund a genocide.
these are my
wildest imaginings in sleep.
little puppies
just getting the all clear
to walk and run and jump and play
on all four legs
and here comes
a lump
a possible tumor
and why is this perfect puppy
not showing perfection
in her vet visits???
~~~
catching up
with poetry
feels like
catching up
with feelings
with emotions
with processing things
i have a hard time
processing
i suppose
that’s
a good thing
~~~
i starting thinking
in poetry
about a year ago
but today i started
dreaming in poetry
for the first time
(does it [all] mean anything?)
kipventures 