Poems from lizpaulaxx
she was tangled
among branches
and intertwined
and punctured
she was weak
and flimsy
blowing along the gutter
trapped under a tire
...
i am not prayer; i am poetryand exist within(and outside)a realm of preconceived notionsabout choices from august nightsand i still...
And a simple
complete orbit
of black hands
creates such a distinction
complete significance
of routine
and ego.
I want but true affection
rather than that
produced by guilt
desperate to stay one
you succumb to old habits
and donate no reassurance
i...
it was after
the division of the country
and the great war
and after they were dragged
on that rocking ship
and loving men
from dysentery...