Cry for your moment, child. Alone.
Name the feeling when you break down,
a lovely thing for dying early. Something else
wide open, guided by voices winding down
the good fight. Choking on blood, how do we
keep safe? The haves and the have nots,
relatively speaking, are multi-orgasmic types.
The larger universe dismisses the mood.
New year, new month, new magazine. It’s a lot different from the one I was working with last month (remember, I’m writing poems using words and phrases found in one issue of a particular magazine).