Once as a child I caught the neighbor pick a booger from his nose and flick it into the onion dip at our house party        I had always wondered
if people were really ‘like’ that
before I wondered I would ponder……stare into space and lie still as time
as Moses
as death
and think into worm holes through years what will I do when I wear grown-up skin
how will I ever get out of my head        how would I do all that shit
and fantastic wonder set in………
 
as if I could fly and wake God I grew in spurts
yearned for sky and some strange land beyond the four block radius
I tangled myself in the child
wrapping and cording myself into her hair
like spun gold
and opened from that cocoon a babe
my head formed a knot
I refused to pry myself from the thought of death
since it was blazed into          
around
and inside me
I longed for a poltergeist       a night without end        yet I awoke again
aged
obsessing over things like
the color of our flatware
or the proper photo for our Christmas card
 
placed the wonder in the to-do draw and instead listened to mindless trivia in my head
while others tasted of the wine and ate of the apple I fast forwarded into general malaise
and decided to open a book          a child’s book of poems       she reads-she lives
and thought the world should know better than to close a book
I pried open a crevice in my head lonely as dust and age
felt wildly safe there in the dark
with the books, a shall….a limp that came with a cane
and still this all came in a heartbeat         while I was just lookin up at the stars
in mere wonder……..
 
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About Donna Dallas


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I studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School. I’ve been published in Mud Fish, Nocturnal Lyric, The Café Review, The New York Quarterly and was lucky enough to study under William Packard. I am recently found or forthcoming in 34th Parallel, Vending Machine Press, Anti-Heroin Chic,...read more The Opiate, Sick Lit Magazine, Dum Dum Zine and Furious Gazelle.
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