followed by tagalong #7:
tanka for the memories
http://vanessavaile.posterous.com/poem-7-tanka-for-the-memories

#11 so very late!

The Last Meal

“The Road Not Taken”
Cliched terms
forever defining me
“This is the beginning of the rest of your life”
I was told when I graduated high school.
Little did they know
that moment had come and gone
at age 15.
The first party.
The first drink.
The first smoke.
The first guy.
I could choose one of two paths
but not both
A lifetime of forever young
thirty years old still clubbing and going to keggers
or I could grow the fuck up
stop being selfish
and learn from others mistakes
including some of my own.

http://ragbone.wordpress.com

No Wisconsin

Even he could not cradle the cold from my toes, the tip of my nose,
and somehow the snow found the crevices, a way to seep into my bones.
I have a record of strangers’ footsteps, his, my own until spring.
I don’t care. He still aches. Still there are parts of me bare.
He is happy when the cold forces him to live underground,
when the outside is simply a word, not a place to go.
Sunny days can be a cold, beautiful killer.
The name of his apartment complex involves a bear,
and I take it as a sign of the necessary hibernation for winter.
I don’t drop the “no” from “thank you.” My tongue is numb.

my day 11 poem

http://scriptophobe.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-11.html

http://thebooklife.wordpress.com/2010/04/12/4-11/

Name

http://triatriatria.wordpress.com/2010/04/11/untitled-3/

http://brokeness.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-11-click-for-friends.html