The following poem, written mostly by Mark but slightly by Sue (and others?), has been evolving for a few years. We have three sets of refrigerator poetry words to choose from: the Original Edition, the Artist Edition, and the Doggie Edition. I didn’t “get” a lot of what there was for me in this poem, until after undergoing a men’s rite of passage. I probably still don’t get it all. So don’t be alarmed if you don’t, either. Nevetheless, use me while you can…
Liminal Refrigerator Magnet Poem
dood:
he yin
have and take
watch blue lake
a sausage sense
wild, frantic
drunk metaphor.
Neo-Beat gift. —->
Woman:
she is y’all
thinks gardening
produces writers
sings softly
feeling every rhythm.
Demands. —->
These then
think through
their thousand
tiny true graces,
telling them
together.
Never me
most.
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