A Link To My Poetry

CLICK: (my favorites are emboldened)
Pete's Bones
John, Reille and Elizabeth's Genomes
Body Scan
Unsent Note to Sister/Friend
Haunted By Hope

Green Lake

Soluble
Diary Entry
For What Remains
Clouds
Poem In My Pocket
Dancing

There Is A Place

Rosetta Stoned Poem
The Quarrel
Obit Fit
Didion Idiom

Poetree

It Follows

Bluebirds Can't See The Color Blue

Bell Canyon

Rotten Advice
Vocal Solo
The Key To Learning My Song
The Meaning of I Mean

Insomnia

Thoracic Outlet Syndrome
The FBI Looks At My Hard Drive
Postmortem

Soluble

I taste my eyes drinking

the specter

of deception's storehouse,

 

I cannot contain the edges of my doubt,

or hold the radiance of your elegant lie.

There is nothing to say,
and nothing to say it with.

 My skin has become
 the burnished membrane
of hard devotion.
© 2010 by Kathryn Feigal. All rights reserved. 
(inspired by Jonas' post and comments: click here)