Megan Porter Poetry

Lonely cow grazing in a field,

soft sunshine on carpet grass,

a whispered vow

to the quiet breeze

gently stirring fallen leaves.

Hold down the fear that guides me to the shade

Daily chess puzzle 12-day streak a weak coffee with 4 sugars a 60s playlist the fear a rushed shower looking at screens a slave to backlit rectangles the regret a to-do list of social commentaries the shame the shame haphazard cleaning ignoring the things that should not cannot be ignored the hate

I wish

we wanted what we deserve

instead of what is familiar

It’s all conforming to a meaning I don’t yet understand:

the next song on shuffle, a response to an invocation

to a music god (life is a song, praise Milil):

an offshoot of pattern recognition

How easily life lies!

An exclamative sentence structure:

broken down into syntactical fragments,

will I finally see the words I feel are really there?

Hiding under the portrait of being seen,

purpose sleeping in Endymion’s stasis bed,

a million bitter agonies tightly held:

life becomes a lesson in constantly letting go.

it reminds me——

there is no taxonomical distinction between a frog and a toad;

a toad is just a frog no one wants around

ever-assembling fractal

light glinting over an artificial lake; I am

spreading out too thin

losing myself again