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Thursday, April 26, 2018

Stop writing for other writers.
            ~ Don Draper

I have to dance these April poems out wild in my house wearing my nightgown drum solos are best I have to dance like I danced in 1971 to the Beatles slow version of Revolution high on acid for hours in a kitchen on Pike Street I have to dance the words out because I only wrote two poems in a year & I stopped reading & now I have to dance in the forest I used to be fancy I used to show up I was city New York Portland San Francisco Seattle Alexandria Washington D.C. New Orleans Chicago fancy cities starting at thirteen when I escaped now I am a forest on an island I wear my stupid nightgown & red plaid wellingtons to water potatoes planted at spring’s beginning every morning I eat an apple & throw the core into the trees for black tail deer & rabbits every morning I stand outside eating an apple then I dance wild unfettered & I don’t show up & I don’t apologize my litany tegretol clonazepam temazepam ativan trazodone repeated every single day every single & I don’t apologize but sometimes I explain in my nightgown my red plaid wellingtons I explain to the madronas the pines the maples the wild roses the ground swell the salt air the deer the rabbits & I dance furious wild happy happy to push these words out on a page my fancy leaked through my hair my knees my breasts my years in the factory my fingertips my feet my hips & I won’t apologize


Ms. Moon said...

Fuck, I just love this. And love it and love it and love it and love it and we are sisters and I need to quit apologizing so much and I need to dance more and thank you for this poem in the world.

Radish King said...

Oh Mary this means so much to me. Thank you. Every day I wake sure certain that I have reached the dry bottom of the well. This especially felt dry until you said and you made it so.