A Body of Glass
By Aimee Fullman
Response
I stand here a body of glass, half empty but unfrozen
Ready to stand as the center of my own fractured atlas
Forever stained and fingerprinted in an uncanny every-changing equilibrium
Aware that just hanging in the “balance” could actually be a form of suicide
Trying to embrace my often mismatched puzzle with jagged edges
Pieced together I can only hope like some kind of Gaudi mosaic
That from a certain angle with the right light reveals a perfect poetry
As the sparkling reflections of all my tiny gritty grains
Dance together in an infinite Kaleidoscope
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I Will Not Be
By Amy Souza
Inspiration piece
The strong one. The sane one. The safe one. The whole.
The CEO. The CEO’s assistant. Wrangler, rodeo clown. The Shit.
Chief of police, captain of the Starship Enterprise. Leader of the free world.
Beekeeper at the White House. Man who paves the street. Woman who schedules which street the man paves.
A rock-n-roll star. A country swinger. A bluegrass banjo picker.
Oscar nominee, behind-the-scenes star, voice on the other end of the radio.
Long-haul trucker. Creator of a fashion empire. Designer of a game-changing product.
A color expert, lightning bug. Juice-maker salesman/retail goddess. Sideline reporter. A meltdown.
One more person who denies global warming. A drowner of puppies. Face on the side of a milk carton. Maker of knockoff handbags. A stream-of-consciousness baker. Bag full of glass.
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One Comment
Yep. That’s good heart writing right there. I love this creation, the writing and the photo…amazing, I’m glad to come across this and taste your words through those dense sea rocks on the plate. Beekeeper at the Whitehouse, huh.