My Cardboard Balcony

Odysseus's Men by Belinda Roddie Lotus bloom for sailors gloomy Who needs shrooms when you've got lotuses? Eat a petal, maybe two Pretend you're home in your mother's womb

Mother Incarcerated by Belinda Roddie disturbing, isn't it - how a man in a robe can sentence an angel to nineteen years, and the angel's daughter rages at the wall - she claws at the plaster, tears its face off with her fingernails, strip the rosiness from its flaking cheeks, destroy the tattoos it left behind in childhood, when all it did was smile when all it did was smile when all it did was smile

Metaphysical Mess by Belinda Roddie I am anti-destruction - I shall grow flowers in your potholes, drape your broken bones in ivy, and make fresh water flow from broken glass. I don't heal, but I do flourish, and I prosper.