September In The Desert

Be still,
or churn,
like butterfly milk,
like curdled cream.
I dreamed that we cannot dream past September.

Maybe God will explode then,
and all the stars
and all the planets
and all the moons
and all the science
and all the religion
will mix together in a giant tornado

and the desert will no longer be
and then,
I will no longer be.

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13 thoughts on “September In The Desert

  1. I am still reading this poem, to decipher more and more from it…like most poetic imagery, it is ever-changing. As a desert-dweller, I thank you.

  2. We are the result of an astral explosion so this piece has positive vibes, destroying the contentious and renewing the beauty. Stars and silver linings everywhere, no more deserts – what’s not to like? Remember the silver linings.

  3. Love this poem, especially this line:

    ‘I dreamed that we cannot dream past September.’

    You have such wonderful subtle paradox within the lines.

  4. Great way to pull us into the poem, either to be still or to churn, as if they are the only choices…and sometimes they are, or so it feels like.

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