K. Holden Pumphrey
Two Poems
On Disaster
A paper sun thinks to source timeOld women moved to the middle of the street
and stood motionless, looking at each other.
dependent on the wind/direction
Advancing in the opposite direction
of reality we asked why are we fighting.
a stretch of pavement
The result of what we have thought
throughout history, encountering uncertainty.
gives you no reason to stay home.
Pace, Pace Mia Sorella
The crying was surprising as a train of our own flutter of actually being good. OK, I didn’t forget about you. Over murk in colored of falling in, at first just snooping for the life-like being. In a retriever of your face I decided on dying this time around it, a pagoda to the real thing, the person. I am looking at photography of your face to know. If I make resolutions and if you will stay. I feel like I don’t need to explain anything else when we’ll be laughing beyond any screenplay where I say Exactly. But sad is. Some things are sad. And then you say hope is invented anyway and this is what it’s like: Good morning! Good morning, Love. We’ll figure out a way for you to move home. The water here makes sense to us and it’s my favorite day to be brave.
