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Why We Are Here

The dogs and daffodils are sleeping in the yard. The sun is over them praying in afternoon ease. It’s Sunday, which means energy is collecting from believers. From there we don’t find answers, but we can still exist peacefully. Remember that dogs and daffodils do not pray, do not care about what is invisible, nor consider anything a waste of time. All of this living is equally meaningful or meaningless.

Sun, Dec 30, 2018 | Model info | Footnotes

I originally wrote this poem inspired by a prompt meant to include dogs and daffodils. This is what I came up with. I love those kinds of prompts, free associating with words just to see what I come up with. When I was getting my MFA in poetry, one of my classmates and I would go once a week to this cafe nearby and do just that (in part because we had so much poetry due all the time and we needed to keep the juices flowing). We would go back and forth each coming up with a random word and writing for a minute straight without stopping to gather our thoughts, straight stream of consciousness. In my sub-conscious world, there is so much about living in the moment, about not worrying about things I can’t control, about letting my instincts tell me what is right and wrong and true, about not spending too much time wondering that I all but disappear from the physical world and fall too far into the metaphysical world, about the constant pull between holding onto things and letting things go, about what it all means, us being here, and also, being able to just exist without needing to know why we exist. This is a little glimpse into my mind for today’s episode of Skin on Sundays. Why the egg/vagina? It’s kind of a stretch but it’s some kind of weird cross between which came first, the chicken or the egg, and how that kind of thinking ties into my thought process and the poem itself.

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