294/365: Fear of Disappearing

294/365: Fear of Disappearing

I think
I want to hold something very tight in my hand.
I want it so tight in my fingers
that there is no doubt
I possess this thing.
Possession feels like murder.
It feels like building a body
that matters
outside my body.
It feels like consumption.


I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.

295/365: How to Succeed

295/365: How to Succeed

Early Snow Couldn't Kill My Trip to My Hometown, Not When There Were Mashed Potatoes On the Line

Early Snow Couldn't Kill My Trip to My Hometown, Not When There Were Mashed Potatoes On the Line