everygirl

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she is a
disastrous pleasure
a doe eyed,
kohl eyed
menacing
beauty.
if you are
lucky, she may
(temporarily,
of course)
allow you to lift
the curtain,
find benevolence,
fragile and tenuous,
hidden behind the
smattering of
parking tickets,
coffee fueled dreams
& good intentions
gone wrong

by Melissa Kro.

Disastrous

true carnivore?

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As meat eaters go, how hungry are you?
Do you munch from the head to the tail?
Does a plate of delightful sweetbreads make you swoon?
Or do organ meats make you go pale?

Oh, delicacies! From the leftover pluck
A chitterling platter for crunching
Or some honeycomb tripe fried with onions and salt
Who says entrails aren’t for lunching?

A sliver of tongue, a twist of a tail
Pate (fancy mashed liver paste)
Why stop at the hock when the feet can be pickled?
And nothing left over to waste

by Melissa Kro.

Today’s word is

Pluck

and I wanted to avoid writing about courage or eyebrows. This was fun.

dieter’s goggles

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When I see the word “local” my eyes play a trick
and don’t read it like most others do
“nearby, immediate, close” doesn’t stick
instead the word splits right in two
my cyclical dieter’s brain sees “Lo – Cal”
the restricted, starving gal’s dream,
a carrot? some tuna! diet soda, your pal –
(Amid fantasies decked in ice cream)
deprivation’s the cure for your problem immense,
thunderous thighs, bubble butt, double chin –
the promise of lost pounds a great recompense
for the incessant search to be thin

by Melissa Kro.

Old habits die hard.

via Daily Prompt: Local

the relief of being imperfect

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It’s been a long time since I wrote something. All of my spare (non-working) hours have been devoted to end-of-the-school-year activities and fixing-up-the-house projects. I made a promise to myself to write consistently. I feel failure and guilt in not meeting my goals. I miss the brain wracking effort of making a word prompt fit the angles of a poem. This is my life; facing up to inconsistency and relaunching the effort. Today’s word is relieved.

the relief of being imperfect

Apparently I am
the keeper
of that personality type,
when on a good day
may reach
a perfect specimen of
dignity
diligence
duty, a
tidy package
of existence.
Of course, this cannot
last – cut
the tether, please!
& upon sharp release
relieved of perfection
the deluge takes purchase,
rush to equilibrium or
(on a bad day)
one face first,
loose
fallible
stumble
earthward

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Relieved

some bubbles are meant to be punctured

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everything I see
is tainted, a
painful squint across
the gossamer web of
fear, laced with doubt and
forget-me-nots.
this life
is not for the weak,
each of us fighting
demons
trapped within
foggy membranes of
our own impenetrable
construct.
everything I see
is tainted, and
I know this
believe this
each waking morn
I feel this,
gasping
dawn’s cool air;
the clutch
for something sharp
a singular thought –
blade/scissors/fingernail
anything to puncture,
rend the walls
see the truth

via Daily Prompt: Puncture

marital construction

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We are building a deck,
greenish wooden planks
cut into angles, joined
by curlicued steel.
Over there are
stringers, posts, boards
split to uniform
length x width and
we bind them with
a merciless tempo, our
squealing screw gun
hammer kicking cacophony
rings clear
and true. This is
a puzzle,
sticks metal sweat
lashed with profanity
and laughter,
a job well done, yes
a job well done.

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Uniform

growing up

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when you were born
the world fell away
incredible joy
clutching fear,
cloying
desperate
beautiful.
now, you are older
there are cruelties, a
monstrously tiny
maze of traps,
enticing taut
glitter toothed jaws
lying in wait
and you
must navigate this,
trace
your own
winding path.
influence is
a fading gem;
our gift, our curse
lies in words,
pride and wisdom
cloying
desperate
hopeful.

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Trace