I went to a poetry reading last night. I saw the old “Maker of Worlds” crew and heard them read poetry.

The featured poet was Rita Mookerjee, a fabulous, LGBTQ+ poet who commanded the space. I’m not usually into hearing a lof of poetry being read, but I could have listened to her all night. The poems were great, and the performance was wonderful.

I didn’t get a chance to read until Jeri, Wendy, and I went out for drinks after, but here are the 2 that were on my phone (so I had them to read). I wrote them in France. Which is why they were on my phone.

 

 

That was what the dreams back home were of.

Walking through the shaded glade with friends

The feelings of those nights not long ago

a déjà vu of something not yet seen.

 

i give my heart as fully as I can

Further than I was but growing on

Flying over roadblocks stumbled through

With each step being closer to my home.

 

——

 

My breakfast is made up of hollowed out things.

An egg

A kiwi

Pomplemousse juice

My enemy’s chest cavity

 

 

 

And scene. Thank you for coming.