WROTE
THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE
Bubba the bug-eyed christ child hands me shells
of turtle eggs +dead flowers Also wafers Tiny turtles
return to a place where the survival instinct of all living
creatures is born Oceanic soup of pre-verbal knowing
I am alive therefore I am A tentacle gilamonster +slick
curls around Bubba’s leg We are at the ocean’s edge deep
into Margheritas
You cannot tell people that every tool they need to survive
is buried deep inside or they won’t pay doctors trillions of bucks
for the next cure Listen up It’s okay to die It is a concept older
than we are Stars die every millisecond When did we become so
afraid?
When did we need snake oil + opiates of masses to anesthetize
When did we forget that beyond that mountain pass are azure skies
Where the dead lead peaceful lives playing Canasta and shaking their
heads Life will kill you then you’re dead
__
Fall 2018
songanddancegirl 