Astray in a dark wood, confused by ways with the straight
I don’t want to get too far into the weeds. Context is the new content. When April showers, she never closes the curtain. With spring definitely in the air it’s time to think about one of our neighborhood’s sweetest traditions. Someone called the cops on Jesus. I was in the middle of my life when I found myself in a dark wood, for I no longer knew the way. Abide with me. She has a tattoo of “librado” on her left hand, and last I saw her she wore a red and white jacket, blue pants, white shirt, black beanie and one brown shoe. Your cashier today was self. I allow myself to be marvelously detached. Love over law. Nothing which is harmonized by the bond of the Muses can be changed from its own to another language without having all of its sweetness destroyed. You’re a moldy old maid who would have taken your virginity to the grave if you hadn’t landed in the new world. They made me wear a mask. Heavy heavy hands over thy head, what shall the owner do to redeem it? I’ll aint you till I see you. And I’m sure she’ll love wearing her new hot pants to her first day of pre-school. I’m the person in the room observing the other person in the room. Librado is translated from the Latin to mean sexy beast. Holy miscreant. People walking. And from my father I learned how to walk away from a relationship cleanly. Marie Sanner, 50, was found Thursday near Matt Davis trail at Fern creek, where she had been hiking alone. Strep culture is positive, please finish the Penicillin. I know she’s feeling better because her stool was like a string bean and now it’s like a cigar. Indeed you delight in truth deep within me. There’s more to a sickhouse than just mold. When I open a refrigerator door and the light goes on all I want to do is perform. The act or process of changing something from one form to another. Harmful matter. Jesus began to weep. The point in which the poem changes direction. She was obviously pregnant in the photo but until this moment I hadn’t noticed. Trust the navigation. Name-Ed G. Country-USA Prayer-My wife of 42 years is experiencing what her doctor refers to as “possible age related cognitive disorders”, she has filed for divorce based on reputed misbehavior on my part which has taken place only in her imagination, please pray for the salvation of our marriage—thank you. He is ridiculous. She loved to sing, dance and crack wise. Let her go let her go God bless her. Stars are the souls of dead poets The mold is useful because it feeds on decaying organic matter. Those special ladies in your life. I’ll give you a kiss tonight, I know it’s important to you. Beloved in all your broken beauty. For transportation purposes only. Consensual loving relations. It was good as good goes. The concept stands by itself and needs to be considered. Son, fear is the heart of love. I’m interested in a confession which has nothing to do with me. As threatening as she is comforting, as elusive as she is matter of fact. Your responses indicate—your responses indicate—you expressed concern—you expressed no concern—you may want to ask—you may want to consider—you may contact—you may contact me—sincerely. Help Me Communicate class. I’m ruining her. Three big blobs of a black bug’s blood. The slowing of life processes by external means without termination. I want to go back to joy. Greetings! Translation is not everyone’s skill as some mad saints imagine. HE LIVES crayons. Your eyes are round globes called eyeballs. What German says, “loss of the ointment occurred.” Hunky Jesus contest. Watch what you say, mister. There you are, like butter in sunshine.
Jefferson carefully, painstakingly, removes all the miracles from the New Testament
Ordinary time. I am the first person to make this fabulous journey. Clap along. And thou shall teach them diligently unto thy children. A very kind man helped by giving us seeds. I miss his Levis’ cut off into hot pants. Even in summer’s arrival, we see the seeds of summer’s end. My child, I cannot help you in that adventure. We used her eggs. It’s a series of common clauses. A has a relation to B and B to C, but B and C have nothing in common. The impossible love between a cockroach and a butterfly featuring a supporting cast of insects. You are a fatherless child. We give, you take; we have, you want; we know, you can’t. Prepare to be miniaturized! The best looking truck cabs that ever came down the road. I’m going to California as soon as I’m done at the Mayo clinic. Shout at the stars and kiss the red dust of the road. Pyramids of charcoal burning everywhere. This day is meant for dads—But it's for grandpas, too—Especially when they're extra nice—And wonderful—like you! Oh for god’s sake: it is fiction every last word of all the books in Christendom. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I spent an hour erasing what you heart. They murdered their poet. I was walking behind her and I got this big whiff of wig smell. 1959 Chevrolet 3200 Apache Fleetside Longbed. The little girl was looking for her voice. It doesn’t really matter what I do with my life as long as I don’t end up like my father. Miracles are but metaphors for poetry. Sister, the final message is repent; take it up with your heavenly Father. Essential tremor. I have been determined crippled, disabled, dead. Swallow piggy head. I have been young and now I am old. You keep repeating the same thing over and over. I find angels more terrifying than clowns. And he picks me up at dinnertime and I listen to him rattle. They weren’t running around gobbling the great phalluses of the rich and greedy so that there could be a parade once a year. Pride not prejudice. He took with him his thermos full of soup and left the crunch of green fruit. There is no surprise. A thousand butterfly skeletons sleep within our walls. Not like it this one. She has no eyelids. I fell in love with the shade, the shade of a woman, and since a woman is shade, in the shade I stayed. The wounds however are decisive and fatal. I ran screaming and pleading for my mother. Shaving cream and glitter. My father traversed the world by drinking about it. If anyone opens the “backdoor” unnaturally from “outside” you end up having open-door syndrome—this is a medical fact—and once that “door” is open it can never be closed again. I’m looking for an interruption. My mind exploded with hundreds of data points. The moon is full over Crystal Springs Reservoir; you will never see it again. We were curious about what might hurt us. If you are bringing your kids or grandkids remind them to stay out of the house. A mold into which content is poured. I was in a torso cast thinking oh my God what is this person? We are sad, stuck, people. I can’t remember the Pirates of the Caribbean just my parents laughing at me. The vowels of East Texas merge and stretch next to the syllables which rise without warning. I think the kids are saying Shabbat shalom. This is a revolution! Put something down. My father will end, his tears will end, his sorrow will end, my father will end.
Julia Tranchina is currently working on a series of 27 language poems. Her writing has also appeared in Barrelhouse, Monkeybicycle, Ohio Edits and Literary Orphans. She lives with her wife and two-year-old twins in San Jose, California.