writings
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Daughter of Autumn, poems & photography by Vanessa LaValle published by Lucky Rabbit Press, Fall 2012. Available for purchase by contacting vanessa.la.valle@gmail.com
Recent work:
Hwy 2
They call it the Crest
and up it goes
carrying us away from Los Angeles,
Into the trees, rocks and sky
things we know, trust and love.
There is real weather here.
Much of the year there is snow
and sometimes you can't even get to Newcomb's
for a cup of coffee.
It is something to do with our free time
drive up and up
passing burnt knobs left by trees
twisted by fire's painful sting
until we can see everything.
Here we are back home again.
People watching over our diner mugs.
When the time is right, we leave
not having spoken to anyone.
Hiking up some old backbone
there is nothing to say.
Future Nauseous
It's 2015
and nothing is the same.
Suddenly I realize a lot of change
has materialized and I don't care for it.
I miss the way time felt before smart phones
the way you might kill time out and about town
or read a book in a cafe.
I miss the way it felt to buy records or cds
the smell of a just opened plastic seal
and freshly printed paper
Instead there is a baby in my bed
and a man in my house.
We cannot afford records
or a player but if we did I wouldn't use them
for fear of waking them all up
It's 2015
and nothing is the same
new paradigms were creeping
and I didn't notice until it was too late
I miss the way it felt to wake up as a child on Saturdays
the inner and outer freedom
to eat cereal, watch cartoons and play outside
Instead I read the news over coffee with a strange attachment
no longer feeling it does not concern me
waiting for the day when we are turned to refugees
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