
For a minute you thought
like a mythical hippo
that it was Monday.
Eat blueberries.
Yesterday’s treat
is tomorrow’s mythical cure.
From Senior Poems by Rachel McAlpine
For a minute you thought
like a mythical hippo
that it was Monday.
Eat blueberries.
Yesterday’s treat
is tomorrow’s mythical cure.
From Senior Poems by Rachel McAlpine
Do you know that irrational urge
to climb a tree?
To settle in the purple wake
of day?
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine
Alas, alack.
Back here.
You always arrive
back here.
photo and poem by Rachel McAlpine
My skull is an occupied
sofa. When someone
makes a home in your head—
no room for poems.
– – – –
Rachel McAlpine
Now’s your once
in a lifetime chance.
Take a stroll
around my soul.
Hands off the software,
please.
*
Rachel McAlpine
He was blessed
by the Holy Farmer—?
How random
and how rural
are our thoughts.
*
Rachel McAlpine
We believe every day
before breakfast that
we will not die
not yet, not now.
I know why
we perform
this impossible thing
—but not how.
*
Rachel McAlpine
For a minute you thought
like a mythical hippo
that it was Monday.
Eat blueberries.
Yesterday’s treat
is tomorrow’s mythical cure.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Last night
I ate a snack
of gruyere, gherkins
and potatoes.
Later checked my diary.
That squiggle did not say
‘meeting OOW’
but ‘Tom Scott’s play.’
*
Rachel McAlpine