fifty hit me
a ton of bricks
insult to injury
for some body
still on the floor
under the anvil
of forty-nine
—Terri Guillemets
fifty hit me
a ton of bricks
insult to injury
for some body
still on the floor
under the anvil
of forty-nine
—Terri Guillemets
November fourteenth
high: eighty-eight F degrees
that’s not Fahrenheit
—Terri Guillemets
good luck to you, leo grande
emma thompson — you
are my new hero
—Terri Guillemets
dear gods of weather —
will it ever rain again
in bone-dry phoenix?
—Terri Guillemets
ninety-three degrees
november the sixth
summer-autumn in phoenix
—Terri Guillemets
october nineteenth
one hundred and three degrees
climate change is hoax
—Terri Guillemets
watching over the shoulder of patience
studying how he does his work
—Terri Guillemets
how the nighttime looks
during a power outage
is how night should look
—Terri Guillemets
sunset casts shadows
yet we see only colors
and glorious light
—Terri Guillemets
in nature i am
water in the breeze
going with the flow
in society i thrash
every cell halting
resistance grows
i become boulder
thrown off cliffs
accelerating through
no choice of my own
landing hard
splitting open
shattering into
everything wrong
—Terri Guillemets
oh my gosh is that a star
in bright city sky?
nope! police helicopter
—Terri Guillemets
watching birds splash in
morning-after rain puddles
cleanses my spirit
—Terri Guillemets
the world we abuse
roasting us like marshmallows
in a fire we lit
—Terri Guillemets