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Zenith Supply Store

I walked into the witch’s supply store and the redheads smiled. Isis spread her wings oceanwide and dazzled feathers in my hair and I rocked there glowing, a chunk of red calcite in my hands, a cradle, a basket. The band played on as in the customers and their songs the varied tones of a capella octaves I rocked silent, I buzzed and throbbed with that stone in my hands

I crowned my forehead Vision. Amber waves of grain are in my blood, I was born into it but this! This the witch the switch I’ve beat I’ve flipped I’ve leaped from Kansas to the city green and here I stand at zenith. The braids and suedes of energy I am awake I sweet with vibes I drink the tides I am

of the earth. Earth mother. She’s cast in clay enclosed in glass I wear her name I break the cast of fathergod and power

Sergeant!      I wash and wax and crumple towers like aluminum cans I can because I’m goddess. This mystery of herstory is crashing through the doors but silent. It’s in our DNA. I touch it when I play, when I poem this and poem that and squeeze the grass for elegiac

praise and tunnel my way earthward earthworm Cornfields and office parks the Goddess lives in all. I’m picking up her call not running rage-fueled and fear-cramped I am LEAPING the moon the moods the views move through me I am synergy because I hear her. I hear her, she is me.



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Poet and Tarot Reader, specializing in Water Cartography
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