I didn’t mean to say what I said but I said it and everything
happened as destined by the weather gods.
It rained that morning. My cell phone was stolen. Who
memorizes numbers anymore? How could I know you
waited until the sun came out? Logic does not fit like a mouth
a poem should not shoo the birds off the stoop bird crap
essential to green shoots and if all you can offer me is
breadcrumbs. I will have to think and thinking gets in the way
of rhyme. I want my roses star-shaped my poems to loop
back and forth.
We go round and round. Spinning the weave of words kiss to
kiss butt to butt.
Quilt me a word. I will surrender. All parts of the whole
for one small syllable. Silly as it seems. Make believe
We are elastic. Rubbermaid.
Copyright 2015, JoAnna Scandiffio
JoAnna Scandiffio is a poet, educator and gemologist living in San Francisco. Her poems have appeared in Sugared Water, Mixitini Matrix, Naugatuck River Review and ellipsis…literature & art. JoAnna was a finalist for a 2013 Anna Davidson Rosenberg Poetry Award.