january 31

dishonest with herself 

on truths she could not countenance

she gave the world the middle finger 

not because she hated life because

she loved it


single form

kindness comes in countless forms

hate? a bitter tea


steal this poem

i dare you

to steal this poem

take it

eat it

digest it

cut it

copy it

confabulate it

feed it to your pets

fabricate it

press it

throw it against the wall

stomp on it

send it into space

toss it into the ocean

play with it

talk to it

recreate it

its yours