"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



Emma Donohue wrote ROOM about a man

who had 7 children with his daughter  in a

bunker beneath his house   His wife lived up

stairs too   There should be more than 1 word

for love


No doubt there was an opulence+mystery to

everything seen by the survivors   Some suffered

breakdowns   Scoured souls unable to rise again

like spoiled kundalini  at the base of your spine


The tatt at the base of mine  is not  holy ironic:

damn right you will rise again   bluey-black+inky

Nor ironic  is the Vatican’s review of the new Star Wars

film   Calling it: confused+hazy   Failing spectacularly

in its representation of evil    Going even further   The Holy

Seer  calls the villain:  insipid  


Compared to what?  or whom?  I ask you    They purport

to have the inside scoop on evil  +many believe they do

One might wish apologies were more plentiful   though we

know that evil is not exonerate-able    Just ask the survivors



Today it is  -14    Winter sky umber  +blue    If you look closely

immersing yourself in tiny everyday miracles  you will see  that

those aren’t clouds   they’re stairs


On Saturday  George  garrulous goblin  owner of the Windsor Arms Hotel

thundered at my husband +me:  RENEW YOUR VOWS!   I do    and

so should you   Let us vow not to squander any escape routes proffered

twenty-four-seven   three-six-one



And when the camel knelt to let me mount it

Winged angels knelt in silhouette

(Fredrick Seidel  Ooga Booga Poems   2006)



Deep Winter  2016

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