When Life Invades Art
Thursday, January 7, 2016 at 05:05PM

I'm conducting poetry workshops with my fifth grade students. We read poems, feel them, breathe them, write in the style of them or write wherever the inspiration leads. I often create alongside my students. This poem was written in the style of the Carl Sandburg poem 'Who Am I?'. I often find my teaching work to be nearly meditative; my home life and my own fight with Lyme don't enter the classroom while the students are there. But sometimes, life invades art.

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Who Am I?


I am the hissing wisp of smoke

that slithers into your nostrils while

you sleep;

I am the jabbering, pulsating trepidation

that shrieks whitely with no

sound at night, jaws cracking.

I hunger for your life.


I deform the expectations and dreams of multitudes

as I smother the exuberance of youth.

I stand with barbed boot on your heart with

another spike in your neck

hunting each minute

by seeping minute

withering away the fresh apple of your brain.


I cannot and will not be contained.

I am Disease.


L. K. 2016


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