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Literature
It Is Hope
Dollar signs swarm like wasps,
Threaten to sting from all directions.
They thicken, become the fog of depression,
The choking, crippling fog, threatening to solidify,
Become the dark abyss, the place knowledge fails
to picture out of pure terror.
But then, a spark.
Will it ignite?
What is it?
Employment? Success?
Happiness?
It is these things and more, yet it is not.
It is hope.
Literature
the trees change
soft gray sunset
fluttering limbs like trunks in the breeze
banana leafs shuffle,
a yellow-green wave
dyed with the thought of rain
the blue of cloud and steel holding back
the bowl of blackberries and milk, a teaspoon of sugar
crosshatched where the birch-hairs twine
in overlapping lines scrawled above
the white bodies turn brown
stretched from molten crucible
into blown gestures
faint suggestions to the wind
the upside-down birdcages
unfurl near the brim
their arms splitting and
growing barbs like battle maces
when the leaves carve away
the paper bark shivers,
leafs, electric on the stem
the shadow from the trunk bleeds
and stains the b
Literature
Breathe
I’ve known how to breathe all my life,
at least that’s what I’ve been told.
No one taught me
no one showed me how
I just opened my mouth and
breathe in,
breathe out.
If I never had to learn how to live
why does it sometimes feel
so goddamn hard to fill my lungs
and let go of everything
like I’ve been born to do?
Why did no one tell me about the earth
and how it lives too,
about how when I press my ear to the dirt
I can hear it wheezing and
crying all at once?
Someone once told me that,
someone once said that the Earth is alive
and it inhales children’s footsteps
and exhales the trees whispers
and sighs the so
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