Integrity by June Labyzon
My inner queen is out of sorts living on the far east side,
exchanging the green for sidewalk Sundays.
The words foam in my mouth.
Choking with a full mouth fails a poem.
Indistinct chatter is the stuff of poetry.
I hand my dreams over to places,
weathered by the shamans;
numerous little legs running about at top speed.
The pace of milk, blood and meat
rests in white porcelain cups
painted with red and yellow flowers.
The brassy fanfare of a sky of spitting rain
is the festive overture to the short story
that is my life.
11/19/2012 Posted on 11/20/2012 Copyright © 2025 June Labyzon
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