Posted: October 28, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,



It was intolerable days

when meaning

was less punctured,

and whispers lay dead

where they failed

to reach out and scream.


When a goose

decides not to fly

South for Winter,

and lies solid frozen

in Colorado ice.


When I thought love

was the Bus Driver’s

wink down my floral

mini-skirt, or the

deliberate brush of

a stranger in a

Mardi Gras crowd …


How twisted our

stream-lined world:

a fly caught in the

batter of a Queen’s

wedding cake,


and mysterious lights

over Whiskey Bay

making people realize

we’re not alone

in our intolerableness.


And there’s nothing to

erase loneliness, and

Artists to this day

can’t draw emptiness

and nothing comes

around to kiss it all away.


Like dawn, it returns

in the beak of a Wren.

In her last song, before

she dives to the ground,

spilling seeds and worms

meant for her nest of

baby chicks.


Intolerableness never

felt more hunger.



© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf


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