Welcome Home, Honey

Everything is awesome:

It does not hurt anymore

I am free of body, of mind

I am only soul.


I am stepping into rivers,

I am driving over roads.

Life rots to soil,

And soil gives birth to us.


I pluck their care packages

from limb, from limb.

I am tearing inside

Curl my fingers ‘round wet cavern

Emerge with teardrops.


I keep them safe for mother.

She will die and she will live on

Her tears fall into soil, sun, soak

I live as companion to her.


We grow together.

I carry her and she nourishes me.

When someone says they love you,

You must give them seeds.


I live to breathe in homes of vines

woven into knots bearing pumpkins.

They tumble to broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower.


The dammed water washing miles of corn

to poison the cattle; to starch, syrup, and ethanol

to feed pockets - not body, not mind

Our corn spreads hunger like butter.


When we share seed freely,

when we unstop our stoppers,

demolish our homes, demolish lonely,

Our hearts are our revolving doors.

As life walks in and out,

we spin, we pump back.


We are small but generous

We eat, we kill

We are constant gardeners

We take only the fruits of compassion

because cruel indifference suits us, buttons us

and we will tear its cloth to shreds.


Seeking and wanting;

distinct and dissimilar. 

You are not magnet,

You are not basket,

You are bee.  

You know you must work to eat,

Keen to eat and feed.  


Do not pretend you cannot see the work.  

You smell it; you are engaged with the work.  

It sees you, steps on your heel.  

Tread upon the flowers -

leave them dusty, reeking of your footprints.  

Carry home in your mouth what you can.  

Maybe a thousand others buzz through your home.  

Do not worry -

they bring, build, and burrow.


Be hungrier, but never want food  

Be hungrier and eat

Do not feel empowered, wield power.  

Own your land, your wax.

Here is the work.  

Do not spark and sputter.  


In honey is hard won hunger

strung up by staying alive.  

Kindle and flame and call numb hands to wash in your water

You’ll need hands, more than your two

Hands that are clean and ready to do


Stop wanting, with every breath produce.  

Expression and impression,

Equal and opposite

won’t cut through.

The more you want, the more what you want shrinks away from you.  


You are used and generous and durable

You are energy, not caught, not escaped, not nothing at all

You are not the bullet, nor the thrower

nor the demand to be thrown, nor the air split in two

You do.  


Personal wants, animal wants, world-order wants, want of meaning,

want of, want of, want of

I am composed of and by desire.

Not wishing or dreaming, I do and work

Planning and scheming and distilling

the bitching and complaining into a shot

Tilting that shot down a throat - shrieking bile

Swallow hate and want, and taste them as you do.  

Never say these things as you do.  

Say words that abolish evil; say words that transform.


What good is “I want you to love me”?

Be trellis, coax the writhings through your hollows

Show them the way to grow into you

You are not the same shape - you are shaper

You are glad to be lived upon.


Your hands blister on the ax tomorrow

She glides against your thumb.  

She strokes you and in this movement feels you stroking her

You’ll never stop, you’ll act.  

Why this time?  


The body’s vocabulary does not expand.

Perennials we pot in shallow depressions

Sweep up in the wind or wash away as the tide falls.


Everything is awesome:

I do not hurt anymore

I have given body, mind

I have left only soul.


This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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