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| She grew up to read poetry and know poets. Today is her 53rd birthday. She still finds it all a bit amazing. She knows she is lucky. |
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
Sediments of Santa Monica
- Brenda Hillman
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
A left margin watches the sea floor approach
It takes 30 million years
It is the first lover
More saints for Augustine's mother
A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's
The Trial free of some sand
A left margin watches the watcher from Dover
After the twentieth century these cliffs
Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads
A dream had come right over
With a sort of severe leakage
Ah love let us be true to one another
Went down to the ferris wheel
God's Rolodex
There were neon spikes around everyone
Like the Virgin's spikes
Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire
Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing
Ah love The century
Had become a little drippy at the end
We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be
True to one another for the world
Easy on the myths now
Make it up Sleep well - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
A left margin watches the sea floor approachIt takes 30 million years
It is the first lover
More saints for Augustine's mother
A girl in red shorts shakes
Kafka's The Trial free of some sand
A left margin watches the watcher from Dover
After the twentieth century these cliffs
Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads
A dream had come right over
With a sort of severe leakage
Ah love let us be true to one another
Went down to the ferris wheel
God's Rolodex
There were neon spikes around everyone
Like the Virgini's spikes
Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire
Rode throwing words off red Current Light swearing
Ah love The century
Had become a little drippy at the end
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
True to one another for the world
Easy on the myths now
Make it up Sleep well
Sediments of Santa Monica
by Brenda HillmanA left margin watches the sea floor approach It takes 30 million years It is the first lover More saints for Augustine's mother A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's The Trial free of some sand A left margin watches the watcher from Dover After the twentieth century these cliffs Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads A dream had come right over With a sort of severe leakage Ah love let us be true to one another Went down to the ferris wheel God's Rolodex There were neon spikes around everyone Like the Virgin's spikes Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing Ah love The century Had become a little drippy at the end We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be True to one another for the world Easy on the myths now Make it up Sleep well- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18994#sthash.3AzXUIDj.dpuf
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