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Blueberry Elizabeth Morningsnow




The Store/The Poor

—the store

The sun was burning frost off the grass
The only time it was not a store was if you were in a field near water
Even if you were in a bedroom it was a store.
You were in a store reading this poem.
I knew cleansed rooms, windows, the feeling of saying hello to everything.
Say mercy and I will give you what you want.
--Well!
As you can imagine the poor kept not turning in their poems.
Turn in your poems! Turn in your poems!
One of my students didn’t turn in her poems because she was homeless.
The poor were in their houses. The homeless were in their places.
I found purpose in translucency.


—the poor

I find purpose in translucency.
The poor are in their houses. The homeless are in their places.
One of my students can't turn in her poems because she is homeless.
Turn in your poems! Turn in your poems!
As you can imagine the poor keep not turning in their poems.
--Well!
Say mercy and I will give you what you want.
I know cleansed rooms, windows, the feeling of saying hello to everything.
You are in a store reading this poem.
Even if you are in a bedroom it is a store.
The only time it is not a store is if you are in a field near water
And the sun is burning frost off the grass



First Worms/ Small Circle Song

The first worms were worms of grief, born
of nutrition, watery brine, and time

Light rolled them into a little ball
and we were threaded in, salt,
standing in design of first-worms

Everybody chorus: First worms!

In speaking I am just one thread
--If this is the everybody-thread
Then I am worm light

Poet: No No I am the poet of worm light--
And I am the poet of whales!
I am the poet of humans and I am--

--Interrupted by Water Face, who now speaks:
I am of the lake and the book of birth,
The encouragement and the memory and the waves--
So if the everybody thread is dangling
Then I am the light of boats

Everybody chorus: First worms!

This is when worms were worms, were
Just pieces of rolled up water and light
Bound in thin pink translucent skin

There is no such thing as money



Blueberry Morningsnow is a poet, teacher and mother who lives and works in Des Moines, Iowa. She has written one book of poems, Whale in the Woods, and one chapbook, Sidewalk to Jupiter/ Mississippi Rainbow.