melissaahowells

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The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

Words Between Edward And Jane

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COOL TILES BENEATH MY FEET REMIND ME

CHRONICLER OF DREAMS

YET ANOTHER ANTI-POETRY POEM ( re-edited 11/2/2022)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

My Grey Haired Love...La La Lullaby , La La Lullaby My Love

Much Better Than This ( A Conversation With The Universe)

The Straight Story (What Happens When The Writer Inserts You Into Her Story)

THE TIDE CALLED LONELINESS

THE HEART IS AN ORGAN ON FIRE

A Girl Always Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze

Entanglements

You Do As You Please 8/17/2005 found poem, readjusted 6/20/22

Appetites

How I Still Love You

Miss Tilt-a-World@

The Smile Which Eludes @

He Says To Me, I Think Too Much (and hence dream too much as well)

When You Learn Who You Really Are And What Is...

Anti-Poem Number Three 8/2/2022 Or, A Poem Your Proper Mother Wouldn't Write

Breathing On My Own

A Girl Is More Than a Beautiful Box re-edited 10:15pm PST 1/31/22

I LOVE YOU ALWAYS ANYWAY AND INSTEAD

Talk To Me In The Dark 7/8/2022

ANOTHER REFRIGERATOR POEM 7/2/2022

What Is The Price For Your Touch

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Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat




***************************************

A stark fact once known
is never un-learned.

Small dogs in Southeast Asia
are sometimes lured
for malign purposes.

At night, my right foot
dangles over the edge of my bed--
the way some Southeast Asian fishermen
bait their hooks with small dogs
to catch sharks.

My foot,
half alive, half-not,
my foot
half useful, half-not;
the small dog
half-alive, half-dead,
the horror threading through
his large brown eyes,
not quite comprehending,
but comprehending.

Who
would bait hooks like this?
Who
would slowly kill
my foot?

The answer
isn't found on the baited hook
nor in my useless foot
dangling over the ocean
awaiting the circling sharks.

It begins with small street dogs
wide-eyed with the promise of meat,
a misplacing of trust
and ends in a turbulent ocean...

The answers never given,
not on the baited hook nor
in the dangling foot.

The answer not given
ends
with the shark.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 10:02AN MARCH 5 2021 TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD...

THIS POEM CAME TO ME IN A DREAM AND IT SEEMED BOTH APT AND
NECESSARY THAT IT SHOULD BE WRITTEN DOWN.







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