Being Human

Being human, according to Hinduism, means we have energy wheels, chakras that start at our asses and end in our hopefully enlightened minds, light bursting through our skulls. All of these wheels need to turn with synchronicity in order for us to feel balanced or connected. But humans have been box-centered for so long. Everything is box-shaped – our technology, our desks and tables, the gifts we give and receive. Ladies, even our female parts are called boxes. So maybe our cores look more like long locomotives with square-shaped wheels, just like the train on the Island of Misfit Toys. There’s strength and purpose, we can push ourselves forward, and there will always be at least one person who will love us. But we’re round pegs trying to squeeze into square holes

Muses 10 through 18

Muse 10 allows 

for that amazing voice 

in the shower. 

11 helps that same voice 

bounce beautifully 

off gravestones. 

Muse 12 dries your eyes 

after a too-big glob of wasabi 

or a too-hot shot of saki. 

13 is the impossibly long wait 

for coffee in the morning 

that makes you miss the multicar 

pile-up on the interstate. 

She’s the extra dead rose 

hidden in his “forgive me” dozen.

14 gives you the years 

you get with your dog or grandparents.

15 hits you with thirteen’s thorns 

for wasting that time. 

16 builds up your walls 

and shapes your wrecking balls 

that crumble them. 

17 helps break the news gently 

when all you want is to be alone. 

18 pummels you with sixteen’s wrecking ball

when you think you need permission.

Blackout poetry – Wingless

“Wingless female specimen of the queen/exempt from participation in society/blind workers erect/waiting upon pointed enemies/These wonderful structures/transported by the wind/are most curious and complicated/adapted in shape and size/to who is appropriate/well-turned/it rests upon the floor.”