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...
by McKenzie | Aug 3, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
Let me make this perfectly clear: the iron is leaving my body. The calcium, the heat. The organs like cold compresses. Her own, smaller body inside my own is jarring, moving against bone and blood. It pains, and yet it tells me she is still breathing. The...
by McKenzie | Aug 2, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
There is a faun that passes through my backyard, only sometimes, and the bald tip of her tail and her limp are unmistakable. If she comes in the late afternoon, I lean my body against our porch door, and she freezes for me. The sun highlights her, an ear...
