“Wonder Woman”

its the ordinary things
that make her extraordinary

the way her hair settles unevenly –
tousling in all directions
after letting her thoughts run wild
against the canvas
of midnight

the way make-up quickly smudges
with every smile and laugh
gently falling away
to open the world
to that natural and under-appreciated
beauty

the way her smile
takes over her entire face,
distorting any attempt she may make
at appearing
‘symmetrical’ –
reminding you that
truly beautiful things
are always off-kilter

the way her attempts at
dressing formal
are always at war
with her comfortable and causal
ways of being –
a single dress never stopped her
from feeling free

the way she writes and talks
about those she loves
with such vigorous admiration

while constantly forgetting

she’s worthy

of the
same
praise

 

I want to be my own Wonder Woman

his 4-year old world

“I’m the draw-bridger”

the proclamation settles in
to a leather couch cushion
quickly recruited to play the part
“bridge”

tender tiny hands
hoist the bridge on its side
until it leans delicately
against particularly placed
kitchen stools
(assigned the job “castle walls”)

slowly

tediously

the living room transforms
under the touch of grimy fingertips
compelled by
the vivid workings
of a mind I can
no longer
seem
to
grasp.

A wedding at the tides

the ocean’s rough spray
is gloomy and grey
on a wedding day
at the tides

charming groomsmen smile
as if they’reĀ on trial,
waiting to defile
their young brides

before the affair
begins, on the air
floats the stench of their
suicides

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