by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
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
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...
by McKenzie | Aug 14, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
Look at the way the body separates; the individual, round skulls—the rotation, the turn, the hum. The brains lift down into the feet, small propellers. As if you and I were connected, somehow. August 7, 2014, MLT ...
by McKenzie | Aug 6, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
Weeds are meant to be pulled. Their wide, twine roots, boxing everything else in. It all takes so little time, the swarm, they take over. I struggle with the beautiful ones, negotiate their responsibility, and end up pulling them up anyway. Guts and roots. A...
by McKenzie | Aug 6, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
Let’s say I take a bite directly from this tree—straight from the bark. What would you do? I understand. You are worried. You, all moon, all pure, imagine the splinters between my teeth, permanent there like small skulls. It becomes pointless to...
