Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I haven't written in a long while..

lost in age and gender

role and goal

sitting sometimes

next to the mudslide of algae

she sculpted

transcended year after year

season after season

into the island it is now

her island in the city

always too loud

lilly pads sprout up

ask where they are

so rare in this vicinity

fish circle her


but not as much as the bark

the moon, Luna, howls near by

with a bite that put the other one down

modestly, shamefully

we will always feel guilty

a splinter, a toothpick hangs from her mouth

she looks nervous

her teeth almost grinding

she looks calm

her eyes close and feel the sun

they squint too tight

and she moves to the shade

checks the watch on her belt loop

picks with the splinter

and these soft teeth came from her

these thighs didn’t

not these legs

only this year did she begin to feel old

wishing she could move rocks like she used to

pondering the boulder from her stomach

sometimes she plays the piano

and cries

the ivory battered

striking her fingers

talking back

and i’ve listened

danced sang hummed along

one long song

the end not concrete

variations of the same story

she thinks this way


  1. this is amazing. it's one of the most beautiful things i have ever read. i loved it, it's incredible alison. keep writing. amazing. amazing.

  2. This is just really honest and great.