Sublime

I wanna write a poem. But I want it to say what you’re thinking. I wanna patch up the holes when your boat starts sinking. I wanna write that ‘one of a kind’ poem, that ‘free your mind’ poem, that ‘I like how you made that rhyme’ poem, that ‘I like that last line’ poem, that ‘Can I hear that one more time? (That is, if you don’t mind.)’ poem. I wan

The Digital Sappho

This is the key to it.
This is the key to everything.
Preciously.

I am worse than the gamekeeper's children
picking for dust and bread.
Here I am drumming up perfume.

Let me go down on your carpet,
your straw mattress - whatever's at hand
because the child in me is dying, dying.

It is not that I am cattle to be eaten.
It is not that I am some sort of street.