After “Association in Poetry”

Mornings: coffee from Austria in a tight sealed
package, an eleven page document, fingers scraping
along the pages. My spine

is erect, vertebrae sharp with tense history.
Something must be understood. Something
gives way to a new misunderstanding.

We tend to remember the negatives.
They stick to us like glue on the sole of
our sneakers. Makes our lithe souls drag on the concrete floor.

Coffee stains the white kitchen counter.
Nothing a dab of bleach can’t fix. Heard my mother’s

voice over the whir of dishwasher. It’s always five o’clock
somewhere. This too is a lie. I can’t stitch words.

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2 Responses to After “Association in Poetry”

  1. liliesofsnow says:

    I love your poetry. I really do. Something in the way you stitch these things together always catches me.

    • makinglittlecircle says:

      Thank you so much! It feels good to hear you say that especially after I’ve been struggling about writing poems that feel satisfying to me. đŸ™‚

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