tell me the power of words

tell me the power of words. when i read them they scatter across the page, my tired eyes trying to catch them as they leap away from me. the resonance of the poem that sits waiting until just this moment to be read.

tell me the power of images when my camera is too heavy to carry. heavy limbs and shuttered windows that capture heavy moods. matching up my outsides to my insides, not always aligned except through the glass that bends light and emotion. i carry no umbrella but splash through puddles, jeans soaked through to the skin. i’m smiling anyway from behind tired eyes. it gets documented still, regardless of perceived negativity, archived away for when i gain some distance and can see this time we muddled through for what it was.

a time when i owed everyone something.
a time when i owed everyone nothing.

“Good Girl” by Kim Addonizio, from Tell Me.

“Aren’t you a dog anyway, always groveling for love and begging to be petted? You ought to get into the garbage and lick the insides of the can, the greasy wrappers, the picked-over bones, you ought to drive your snout into the coffee grounds. Ah, coffee! Why not gulp some down with four cigarettes and then blast naked into the streets, and leap on the first beautiful man you find? The words ruin me, haven’t they been jailed in your throat for forty years, isn’t it time you set them loose in slutty dresses and torn fishnets to totter around in five-inch heels and slutty mascara? Sure it’s time. You’ve rolled over long enough… at the end of all this there’s one lousy biscuit, and it tastes like dirt. So get going. Listen: they’re howling for you now.”

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