on concrete and hippies

[nibbed]

Hi, Lizzie. I like your poem & will make a few notes below. It has an air of mystery, almost as a rebuttal to failure of some plan, but then I saw it more quirky as I read it over and over. It's thoughtful, but needs something. It was almost as though the narrator was looking in a dusty mirror or one that had a faded backing, reciting or preparing. I want to pull that out of darkness, but I don't know how. It blessed me, just the same. Thank you.





we awaken to the sounds
of dump trucks        cement mixers
hydraulics hissing                                                          I like this.

they should sound like failure
        my failure
to bend        to blend                                               
to use the tree canopy as roof
the leaves as bed                                                               good natural description

children fight over a toy                                     
that they each must have                                               if they are already fighting, is this line necessary?
they and no other                                                             this too?
push pull punch scream tattle
their love for each other                                                  cute, like this
is no deterrent to        mine
not when they want
not when it's               theirs                                                  confused me at first, then I briefly saw the mind of such a child
tell me how
this is not the way of nature?                                          made me think sadly, there'll always be better newer toys, as old toys get scrapped and given to charity...
                                                                             
you tell me to touch the nature within me—   
you and your henna tattoos
essential oils        magnets        crystals
and hemp everything                                                                                                
you tell me
allow the primal to guide                                                          

but if i'm honest
the trucks' rumbling sounds like assertion                     
instead of apologizing or moving to the side
sorry—so sorry

i'm not sorry today                                                              human on both sides of a struggle

i breathe deep the sound of                                               
control        a concrete anchor                                           anchors are symbolic of security/safety and are needful for peace
because this is where we'll stay                                         it's hard being a drifter, even if it's just things about our hearts
here and nowhere else                                                         we are reckoning with