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Mrs. Mediocrity · 3W ago

it’s like this

there will always be days stretched tight by the too dry skin of living there will always be evil rubbing shoulders with light always be witches dancing circles at night always a cloud blott...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 3W ago

stunned (and/or)

like the bird bouncing off the top studio window or the tree bent broken fallen from harsh storm and the grandmother hearing news of World War III or the 12-year-old girl standing cold in a ...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 3W ago

at least once a day

as if the sun carried stars and the moon danced with shadow or your smile meant the joke it once implied the way we wandered through the streets of a city left by rome holding flowers in dam...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 3W ago

in stereo

the wind shifts and the tree frogs are talking to each other warning of storm and change i...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 4W ago

laying the table for summer’s picnic

in a brief dawn moment when i remembered not to forget to look down to notice three favorite flowers fritillaria (a poem in a name) (a poem of a flower) and i smiled all day . . .
Mrs. Mediocrity · 4W ago

how high’s the water, mama?

there are so many things i cannot reach so many miracles behind glass and roses i’ll never cultivate and all these days filled with bugs and better thans and never enoughs there is always that sky through the tall short-lived poplars growing faster t...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 4W ago

the bones of her face

mirror-moon and barely broken downward dog and faintly spoken i am hollow i am raw i am forgotten i am refusal and predication spitting out bitters and smiling at wind-loose shutters this is...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 1M ago

time passes when no one is looking

there’s an oak tree in the brush line by the driveway with a branch that’s been hanging since the ice storm of 1991 i remember my sadness at the damage of trees i remember being young and appalled at life’s cruelty i remember how the basement flooded...
Mrs. Mediocrity · 1M ago

on the corner of chelsea and 57th

they said youth was the currency and beauty the price but we knew better on the streets of anarchy where blossom was never as fragile as ego and thorn was the tally of vice . . .
Mrs. Mediocrity · 1M ago

frills

prom dress pretty and filled with fresh hope the irony of this tall vase of tulips primp-sitting all bare and innocent amidst kitchen-table clutter and the convoluted detritus of a too-busy week but these are my days and no matter how messy there are...