The twelve-inch needle stuck deep,
with my thinning skin sucked around it...

Root yourself
just like a tree...

My sister took a goblet dive
in the autumn woods...

Wait.
Listen...

Eyes peel to the pang-
with its beats...

My insides do not sew the fabric of my flesh.
So de-robe me...

PRE-POEM NOTE: This is a sarcastic poem about what...
All join hands...

Even fettered as I am now,
the chains are not so bothersome...

Not a step
but a plunge from a precipse...

*VERSION 1- Secular
There is a choice...

As long as we eat from this turbulent Earth
this will thrive as a swarm of blazing bees...

I drift
like Last-Birthday’s balloon...