Anti-Sense

Swallowed a cherry pit,
felt happily alone,
when I giggled at the back of class
about what wombs can grow.

The professor rambled on
about the history of dissent,
why we need criticism,
and what I should have read
by now
maybe he forgot
how it feels
to go out on your own
the magic of the world and words
mixed up and unknown.

Maybe it’s as simple
as the trusty alphabet
repeatedly we must decide
what words to make
and to reject.

So simply,
if growing is going
without knowing
what yet means,

I choose
next.

Brain Cleanser

Togethering again
the chaos
of days unglued,
months spun by,
compiled newspapers
piling high
with things that happened
and receipted things I did
or spent
or spent time with.

Exhaustion comes
when it has been a while
since sleep, up fighting the long losing
battle mind mine of mine
sleeplessness fixing all that is tense,
for a world insisting on rarely
making any sense.

But tonight when you are not
here, I am less
tired, and though
this is true,
I would give up all
of my order
to spend time
with you.