Minisode 33: Baird and Leithauser – What’s a Belligerent?

UNTITLED
I think of myself as a finch,
flitting from twig to twig. having no
particular direction. collecting
the perfect sprig, the softest moss
to curate a cozy nest that will
cradle my eggs, round and plump.
I am a mess of grass and feathers.
I am a mess of song.

WORTHLESS POEM
I can never say how I feel.

If poetry were currency
I would trade away form and alliteration.
There is no reason for rhyme
because rhythm is a fallacy, a heuristic.
I would deal only in thoughts –
no – sentiments. See? Words are worthless
like the letter K. Nothing lost by losing her.
Vowels are light and heavy, conveying
ecstasy and nothingness at once.
Words have value only in their meaning,
because there are a thousand ways
to disagree. A thousand ways
to say I love you. A thousand words
for hate and fear and malice.

But only one for me, and that just won’t do.
Only one word, and yet I am infinite.

THE ENGAGEMENT
She wanted the pear shaped ring
because it’s the same shape as her
favorite fruit and her hips.

She says green is her favorite color
and she loves the woods

but she takes a chainsaw to
the first tree she finds.

The mountainside is gray and bleak
but she wants it right now,

right here, not caring that the hat
hides the flecks in his eyes.

They stand on a precipice,
stark and steep,

and she pushes him over the edge
before jumping herself, saying my love,

now we can fall for each other over
and over and over.

Thesaurus
Not all balloons float.
Foley bulbs sit in the cervix.
Residual water balloons checker
a mosaic graveyard. After her
third bowl of tripe stew, Emily Roland
resembles herself a balloon, though her
head undoubtedly comprises helium.
Not all balloons float.

Rorschach
Glory! The sun rises again
to thwart the darkness from
harming His friends. Fright
and sullen beasts beware.

Hush! Milk from the breast
of Mother will grow you strong
and ease your unrest. Battle for
the Sun, resist for the Moon.

Brawl for the trees. Duel so we
may till the soil and love for free.
Wield your weapon for these only.

We cannot halt these needful wars but
take caution, for the blood of enemies
once spilled cannot be extracted from yours.

Fervor
The cloudless blue
taunted me today

with her spearmint
breath.

Only after I took
a long, smooth drag

did she snuff out the
chill with a labored sigh.

Feather me with orange
while I feverishly wait

for white to blanch
my fingertips.

Bleach the river
that I may perch

awaiting the current
to move from my

rump, through my stomach,
and out of my mouth

so I can breathe my own
slush

for those stale of orange.