kathy douglas
My body is turning into something else again,
though my mind still wanders stamping out fires—
conflagrations of your craziness
in these post-WWIII novel days.
I cast off your long, dark shadow.
Real love remains like dark, leafy greens.
In a colorful shroud, I walk
hand-in-hand with the women.
We come and go, talking
of how we would feed Buddha,
our children, Mary Magdelene.
Real love is not dystopia. It is not on fire.
It nourishes like spinach,
like kale.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
kathy douglas - on becoming a vegetarian
kathy douglas
is a poet whose day job is helping environmental leaders at Yale launch their careers. She is a first reader for Post Road, proofreader for Frostwriting and holds an MFA in Creative Writing and Literature from Bennington College. Her work has been published in Calyx, The Café Review, Palimpsest: Yale Literary and Arts Magazine, Frostwriting.com, and in the anthology, I Am Beautiful: A Celebration of Women in Their Own Words. Online, her work can be seen at drunkenboat.com and Shadow Knife Pen Poems.
