J.L.Hopper

Guest Poems

untitled

"my ass looks
not like a
fairy," she said--
as she imagined what that
would look like.
"would it be difficult
to sit?"

Unencumbered peacefulness
playfully abounds
for I am
too tired to
keep it from
bounding around.

You see....I am drained;
tapped by ages past
and a confusing present.
I know not how to accept
this present--
so I sit here,
like the many times before,
confused
by something
unfamiliar.

Realizing the comfort
of familiarity--
simplicity in not changing;
yet the aching desire
to fly.