by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges
A promise of something small—and the skin warms. August 13, 2014, MLT
by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges
There was no other way to tell you that life was harmful: threw the box into the river, filled with rocks, with you, with light. There is nothing left but stars. August 12, 2014, MLT
by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges
Tears burn yellow, burn wide, in the sun. The small sunflower seeds left over along your collar and in your hair. They are senseless, aimless, unceasing. This is the definition of mourning. It is a marionette, a song, unweaving. August 11, 2014,...
by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges
and concern. There is a vase of the yellow masses in the window. They remain motionless despite the sound of the air cracking, the belt. Thirteen, fourteen. His body, in this space, is pointless. August 10, 2014, MLT ...
by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges
In the rain, they are too small. The wings, the small holes, the designs, are filled with water. Their bodies glisten. I collected a jar of them and kept them in the garage for winter, one side frosted with window air. Their bodies quickly froze to the sides, a...
by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges
Left out on the farm, there is the threat to turn cold. The discovery of the skeleton of an opossum on the line between the yard and the field, blending into the rocks. Like a small jesus—and the wise men are touching walking sticks to forehead. I think...
