If You Were A Mermaid, You Said,

We Got Quiet. The Garden Was Combing Her Hair And Putting On Earrings. The House Was Full Of Dancing Creatures, Not Male And Female But Both, Two Lovers In One Body. The Books Downstairs Were Reciting Their Poetry To Each Other, Rubbing Together, Whispering Through The Leather Covers. Wine Was Flowing Through The Water Pipes. You Had Caught My Leaping Heart In Your Hand Like A Fish.

Choose To Believe In Your Own Myth Your Own Glamour Your Own Spell A Young Woman Who Does This (even If She Is Just Pretending) Has Everything.

I Think That Poetry Is Perfect For Women Raising Children, With Just Bits Of Time And Such Need To Connect To Other Women Out Of The Isolation Of Motherhood.

Under The Ground Seep The Toxins Of The Population That Lives Above. If You Have To, You Will Eat Roots And Earthworms. It Is Always Night. Candles Burn In Lanterns Made From Tin Cans. When It Is Nighttime Up Above, You Can Crawl Out, But Only For A Little While. You Feel Ashamed Of Your Matted Hair, Your Torn Clothes, The Dirt On Your Face. Who Would Want To Speak To You? They Are All Shiny And Pretty. They Have Parents And House With Gardens. What Do You Have? The Earth. Whole Handfuls Of It. The Lizard People With Their Slit Eyes And Scaly Skin. Your Loneliness. Your Longing.

I Try To See The Dark And Light In Everything. This Is My Way Of Comforting Myself When I Am Dealing With Those Emotions.