Selection from the poem "Slaps"
We put ourselves out there,
Into unfair weather, as a kind of necessity,
To get an exfoliation that only a gritty
Dust storm can provide,
That only those who lasso and toss their souls into valleys
Can ever understand,
All those natural fires others work so hard to put out,
That kind of extinguishing suffocates us,
We need the tips of our flames,
We only sleep well when we’re burning,
We only get our souls returned to us
When we’re completely out of breath,
Into unfair weather, as a kind of necessity,
To get an exfoliation that only a gritty
Dust storm can provide,
That only those who lasso and toss their souls into valleys
Can ever understand,
All those natural fires others work so hard to put out,
That kind of extinguishing suffocates us,
We need the tips of our flames,
We only sleep well when we’re burning,
We only get our souls returned to us
When we’re completely out of breath,
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Used by permission.
Used by permission.