We sit upon the broken eggs… Friday, March 14, 2015 #Schwervonpoetry 

Morning sun deliver me
From the tar pits
Fuel the day with
Woolly Mammoth tusk.
The picked over bones of writing.

Skin crumbs that chip and peal
from all the faces
That I love and dream

A day before the fire

Evading the battles
Over log cabins and hard cider

Birkenstock face lifts
Spray painted Cadillacs.
Mr. Potato head eye shadow

We learn to dance with
The broken bodies

We study the chickens in the yard
We learn from their moves
We sit upon the broken eggs
The imperfect yolks.

Broken free
We shine with glitter
Dripping from the corners
of our mouths

We smile rainbows
With each potato we peel
Each root we pull from the earth
Our dirt clod legs
Dangling in the sunlight
Pounding on the water trough.

Of this earth but no longer in it
Time to skip and dance
Time to feed others
With our passion packets of
Life force.
Feast on us.
Be filled to move.

(This poem was recited for the first time on Friday, March 13, 2015 at Vacant Farm in KC, KS)