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Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Pour Michelle

 to Gertrude, from Alice.

The woman feels where I think I might not feel but for her I feel for her I think for her I would admit art reflects life before art rejects life. Pour Michelle.

Ma Belle, we sprouted purple
kale and coffee grounds for
breakfast before the rest of
humanity sounded. But our beauty
cursed, the broken loyalty left
rotting in their universe: un
hombre, la femme, our holistic
devotion to everything them.

Ma Belle, autumn pointed us a
new direction. Apart literally.
But together again. What sin
ignites desire for less than
perfection? What troll claims
more grace? What cow shows
more taste? What goddamn dumb
human trades ideal for infection?

Ma Belle, we blinded companions
by merely existing. Michelle I
fell where you fell yet here we
are atop the zenith planting the
kale and sprouting some coffee
grounds and watching their sad
submergence in mediocrity. From
up here Michelle it looks nice.

3 footnotes:

Amy said...

Kelley, this is beautiful. This is like nothing I've read of yours. I really like it. A cool start to my day.

Anonymous said...

It's me. Just home from a long day and re-reading this with such gratitude and comfort. You are right--it does look nice.

Thank you, Alice.


Anonymous said...

i really like this too.