My grandmother’s career options were a nurse an office assistant  or a teacher.  The women in my family don’t follow instructions well and we are a little bit woozy so teacher it is.  Educator it is Holders of knowledge and  molder of minds it is Givers of time it is 

Depression dishes, depression dishes I’m waiting for the moment of manic motivation To move me word Move me Move me Move me word The pile is building like my stress and frustrations A curious collection of mold and stains In that one pot. word Like a pack rat within the

Flow like a river spirit my dear child contort and shake, transcend your physical form  all that matters is the energy you bring Return to the purity of childhood innocence  with a deep understanding  of all beings that have come before Interpret the omens with a swift foot and open

this secret,  tucked in the vault of my mind  hidden in the holes in my heart  buried behind my buttoned beak lol i promise – this will be my little secret before the water boils and bubbles over the pot –  i promise  i won’t tell i call you because 

beating, battered and bruised  her forlorn longing is not lost upon us  despite splotches black and blue  collected over years of affliction  lol carrying on, day by day  in an exasperated, and anguished type of way her incessant thumping, never halting,  regardless of the purple & green  that shapes mountains

the snow is refracting the sun’s rays  with an indistinct yellow aura –  shades of blues and greens surround me  as i walk through these woods  block happy little trees dance in the breeze  and i long to feel as free as these tiny specs floating through the air  as