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"World" and "Careening," two poems by Lisa Barton

by Lisa Barton

I do not want to be
your reliable laid back
afterthought so
there is more
I have insides to my insides
and some ain’t pretty
I want
the same things
what you keep for
sacred dears you exalted
for no purpose
decorating your landscape with
pink flamingos bordered by
tiki torches
I am
life in a frame of bone and meat
barely contained, full to bursting
pushing you towards recognition
carving out MY landscape
crushing your fucking flamingos
and setting the shards on fire

by Lisa Barton

I’m riding the bronco on a most
runaway out-of-control carousel
playing calliope music slightly off
key pulsing nightclub dancer disco
bass thumps into my most exposed mind

I tilt-sway-snap the jerks
shake me out of brief soft focus
reveries of warm arms pulling
my shaky frame into slow motion
bliss I want to be worthy of
and call my own so I’ll seize the reins
of my hulking steed and break
out of this go-round sunset bound

From the poet: Lisa Barton is a work in progress living in Indianapolis. Her poetry is an expression of that as well as the nonsense and conflict within her brain. She's a sister, daughter, friend, artist, designer, problem solver, overthinker, enthusiastic cat parent, seeker, teacher and information sponge. She's been writing poetry off and on for 20 years, which makes her feel really old right now.