by Lauren Ireland
$16.00
January 1 2012 San Francisco
Aren’t the trees strange. Little palms, it’s winter
lonesome and watery. Under the hills time
lies sleeping. Over the clouds you come back
zing. Have you noticed the whole night wants
to kill me breath of wine gold sparkling sidewalks
oh you have no idea how far I’ve come to tell you
this: Beauty is insane insanity is divine
divinity is violence violence is beauty I am yours.
About the Author
Lauren Ireland is the author of three books and two chapbooks and is a graduate of the MFA program for Poets and Writers at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst. She lives in Seattle and online at laurenireland.net