The Intimacy of Cutting the Grass
Lines of poetry
Lines of cut lawn
Lines of emails
Lines of things I should have said
Lines of things I said…
One missed chunk of dog poop
Avoid it, then oops (Gross)
Vibrating arms legs bones
Thinking of exercise (Does this count?)
Thinking of the dirt beside the toilet (Clean that next)
Looking at the other lawns – perfect, perfect, perfect
Then dirt only, mud on rainy days
MGL signs shouting chemical smiles (Gross)
Wondering who was the jerk who decided
we needed ‘front lawns’ – not gardens
weeds to sway freely
Wondering when my tummy will
stop pushing down the waist
of all my pants wondering when I’ll
stop caring about my belly wondering
what parts of this poem I’m writing as I push
push push (Boob sweat)
I’ll remember when I sit down to write
naked toes fluorescent green under the table
The Intimacy of Writing Poems About Intimacy
breathing under water is getting easier
the deeper i swim into the currents of
each day though my fear of drowning
never ceases. i’ve learned that there is
an intimacy to every thing. a letting in.
a letting go. a space inside the spaces
& spaces inside those spaces & my
slippery silvery succulent sway of
self is mermaidesque in her desires
in her dreams in her knowings &
unknowings & i realize i never quite
feel normal – that the intimacy of
belonging is cell deep & terrifying &
also liberating & funny & intimacy is
all kinds of kinds skins bones tongues
words colours tastes – of the body
but also of the air earth water fire
also beyond language & time &
the wet of a giant orgasm that makes
me see stars & stars oh yes! and stars!
a curious deliverance of excavations
this intimate exchange over & over
30 POEMS! 30 DAYS!
Thank you for joining me on another poem-a-day adventure! Reflections to come! Here are the final two poems for the month! Peace and love and poetry! Oh, and Happy Independent Bookstore day too!
3 thoughts on “#NPM22 The Intimacy of Cutting the Grass & The Intimacy of Writing Poems About Intimacy – Poetry Month Completion”
Thank you Vanessa for opening up your heart and mind to us once again and sharing your pain and pleasures in your inspiring poetry. It was good to be there again with you. Especially this last poem. It really speaks to me.
Thank YOU, Charis, for always reading and opening your heart right back!
Here in the high desert of Nevada many folks, us included, don’t have front lawns. They take too much water. Drought tolerant plants only.
Dictated or typed (inaccurately) on my iPhone. Tout va bien.