Amanda Kay Writes

first a bleed seeping scarlet scratched in public shrouded with the night sour stomach and stooped shoulders   then a seed small simple sown in darkness springing into the sun surprising swollen eyes and sleepy soles

there once was a girl from East Armpit who took her whole life just to admit she was more than they said was just fine as instead the folks from the Pit were the unfit

it's a cartoon an elephant perched precariously on a red and yellow striped beach ball ready to splat a sucker clown the instant it's tickled with a feather but is it the elephant or the beach ball producing all the ruckus when the beach ball bursts spraying the crowd with pink confetti elephant flab echoing off the canvas all the while, Calliope belts out a loud chorus stone tablets littered at her feet         Here rise to life again, dead poetry! Let it, O holy Muses, for I am yours, And here Calliope, strike a higher key, Accompanying my song with that sweet air which made the wretched Magpies feel a blow that turned all hope of pardon to despair — Dante, "Purgatorio", Canto II, lines 7 to 12  

blow up, dynamite bandy lies, consternations ping pong personas nascent states have recipes separating babes from sludge

willow winds whisper, dandelions... dilating days are upon us scatter to the east and west the chortle of children sprinkle north and south sunshiny smiles fluffy seeds wispful light

a stitch in time saves nine someone teach me to sew sew my mouth shut my eyelids closed snap my legs tight and button up my toes nine stitches aren't enough to sew up all my guts coagulate blood scab over wounds set broken bones how do I keep me shut? sewing basket's empty I'm all out of thread no bandages crutches, a brace or prescriptions to wrap my pounding head

from asters to zinnias this spring has sprung hour by hour I sense the subtle changes ordain the Sun Goddess! myself her devout proselyte loosed from winter grey and frigid doldrums limits cannot bind me and the east is my redemption imaginary beasts shake off their afterbirth lines of perky blossoms shed their skin       from this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines -Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road 5

Where do you want to go?” Witch asked.   “I’m not very hungry. You decide,” Princess replied, not even looking up from her phone.   “How about Eye of Newt? I hear they have a prime newt special on Thursdays.”   “You know there’s nothing for me to eat there, being a newtitarian.” The Princess’s eyes rolled.   “Fine.”   “Good.”   “How about Grave? Lots for you there,” Witch countered.   “I went there with Ogre yesterday, remember?” Princess said curtly.   “OK,” Witch heavily sighed. “3 Bears Public House? You like the porridge there.”   “I’m not in the mood for breakfast.”   “Then you tell me where you want to go. You don’t seem to like any of my suggestions,” Witch retorted, biting her tongue, setting her jaw, and doing her best to stifle a hmphf.   A heavy pause.   “How about Toil and Trouble?” Witch ventured.   “You’ll just complain the whole time about the food being inferior to your mom’s.”   “Then where do you want

write a sentence as clean as a bone pick teeth with it excavate tooth gaps scrape under tongues scour back molars   spinach sentences stuck in front teeth scream for cleansing pine tree toothbrush red bone marrow polish drooling, clown red smile       Write a sentence as clean as a bone. -James Baldwin  

early afternoon sun dust diagonals through the blinds soft ambling tickling you as you lie my fingers trace your hip curve tracing the shadowy lines slow studying is falling for you wise?

trailing cloud shadows miniature lives and houses rats lost in the maze closer you are to the ground the bigger the shadows get https://www.dictionary.com/e/word-of-the-day/waka-2022-03-21/

sloppy, wet knock on the door sleepy uterus answers wearing nothing but a smiling negligee “This is for you.” “What is it?” I blink. “An egg.” “What the hell do I do with this?” I mull, rolling the soccer ball sized girth in my hands. “Drip it into your percolating vagina.” the door clicks shut goosebumps caterpillar down stomach moths flutter like a roller coaster drop clitoris quakes in its quiver hairy legs part like a whore crack the egg and pour sunny yolky sperm cummy hoary albumen flow labia lap it up when's breakfast?