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In days of sun after days of rain,
thin soil bakes; grasses run riot
in the cocoa-butter colander we have sieved to,
tossing our shirts and shoes into a breeze
heavy with dandelion and cottonwood drift.
We have come to settle the question
of whose toes are better tanned, which of us
deserves more leisure, who
holds more desire in the palms of their hands.
The razor-grass is a forest, and your
crossed legs form a valley with the soles of your feet;
there are tiny flowers all about the hem of your skirt,
honey, blossom, and seed.

Kansas is not Missouri, but it is close.

1 May 07

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oh honey
the bosom
the weeds
and the
dead dog enjoying the animal feed.
 — unknown

damn, you're too quick; I was just about to ask about the cheesy ending, and you manage to make fun of me before I can even begin to regret posting something approaching a love poem.  Damn damn damn.
 — mikkirat

sorry kikidee. isabelle motivated me.
 — unknown

how cool:
desire  {from yours}
fire  {from mine}
in the palms
of their hands;
how cool.


line 12 is wicked....
 — varun

*raises eyebrows/smiles* where'd this come from?! Don't regret, I like this--a departure from your usual urban standpoint.  L's 6 & 7 are simply wonderful. Only one thing, and I don't know why it's even a question for me (because I'm not sure changing it would make any difference???) is what flower for L12? Seems...I dunno, too accidental? since you name the other plants and such...
 — gem_grrrl

Varun and I must have commented at the same time--I agree L 12 is wicked, despite my reservations. Very nice.
 — gem_grrrl

varun, thanks, I only now realized that some of your "beggar sitting outside a shop..." had sunk into my subconscious; glad you like lines 8-9.

gem_grrrl, thanks, you're a peach: any suggestions for the flowers of line 12?  I realized after writing "spearmint tea, tracks, and trestles" last summer that my knowledge of local flora is pitifully weak  ;)
 — mikkirat