Tag Archives: Leslie Holt dreamt she was a contemporary poet

And exhausting

Ridiculous. And ironic. To struggle that I might stop struggling. RK ~ 7/22/17 ~

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Lear’s Beautiful Boat

I am nearly 13 hours asleep in this nearly empty place together with a sofa and a coffee table adrift. ~ I feel like the poem come alive, The Owl and The Pussy-cat out to sea in a pea-green boat. … Continue reading

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All the world’s a stage

My mind seems out of sync, you know, like that bit of tape from that scene that was a problem all the way around from the beginning, all the way along until that day you grab the remote hoping for … Continue reading

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Zen Forest Laughter

Unmoored, real estate ad floats to face marshland trees. “They call it Billboard.” ~ RK ~ 6/15/17 ~

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Her Pillows

They are as neat and as tidy as can be expected, the ticking clean, clear of blemish or stain, with wee, blue and white flowers, her favourite colours, the two of them sit like that, one atop the other at … Continue reading

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I wish

of all I wish, I wish for that Bodhi Tree the soft grasses roundabout the sky lit up with the fragrance of the peace that excels all thought.   I imagine the grandchildren, there after the lovemaking, your hand still … Continue reading

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Me and Mon Santo

Down a rabbit hole that isn’t. Down a gopher hole, but only one leg. Stuck. I am like some crazy, late cornstalk, too tough, too hidden for the harvest. I wave about. I’m stuck, I murmur. “There’s no one here … Continue reading

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