Works of a Polymath-ish

My affections were incomprehensible.
Politically incorrect.
All wrong,

Reason is such a sham,
Without the shape and tone
And hue of rhyme,
Feeling flawed as you

Sitting folded up like a pretzel
Holds hands onto ankles
Back to the wall. 

When he first spoke of her
Weeks ago,

Today I want to tear this alabaster skin away
From every sick and twisted crime that has been committed
In the name of whiteness

It could be something.
Or nothing.
Or the rest of your life.

No way of knowing,
And not knowing

Hands shoved deep into his pockets

She thought, “They belong in my hair”

Shoved deep in his pockets.

I was much taller by mid-afternoon,
Standing up to the struggle,
Blue color thinking
Bruising the blue blood

I am the glorious furious Moon Goddess.
My rhythms draw you to my roundness.
I promise you no warmth.
I build you no flowers.

This morning I awoke,
A melancholy January snowfall.
No Ambition
Bleak

I will have you
For what it’s worth.
With dignity and balance in mind,
Make you up again on paper,
Cut and paste you to the form.

In the meadow
Running
Round and round
Mad with joy.

Four car colors ago
Blue appeared
On a good day
When I was feeling vast