Making metaphors meaningful – extended style! “Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.” – C. Day Lewis

June is… June’s in town, brown-shouldered and bare-legged, with a butterfly Perched in Her Hair. She sips a frozen drink while she floats in an inflatable beach toy and flirts with the lifeguard. She has a friend with a pool pass, the loan of a beach house, and leaving work early on her mind. She’s the icing on the wedding cake, the biggest hat in the church, the starch in the flower girl’s sash. She’s the rainbow and water cocktail served by lawn sprinklers and the marriage song the bee hums to its flower. She’s the honeysuckle breath that whispers news of lawn parties, long twilights and the possibility of love striking you like summer lightning. June is the destination we dreamed of in winter, the ticket to Somewhere Warm far from the North Face Pole, the sunset that blooms like a hibiscus over a tropical island. Now boarding – all rows, all zones.   -Skirt Magazine, June 2010 Greenville, SC

Abuelito Who Abuelito Who Abuelito who throws coins like rain and asks who loves him who is dough and feathers who is a watch and glass of water whose hair is made of fur is too sad to come downstairs today who tells me in Spanish you are my diamond who tells me in English you are my sky whose little eyes are string can't come out to play sleeps in his little room all night and day who used to laugh and like the letter k is sick is a doorknob tied to a sour stick is tired shut the door doesn't live here anymore is hiding underneath the bed who talks to me inside my head is blankets and spoons and big brown shoes who snores up and down up and down up and down again is the rain on the room that falls like coins asking who loves him who loves him who? Sandra Cisneros

She’s Every Woman She’s Every Woman – Garth Brooks She's sun and rain, she's fire and ice A little crazy but it's nice And when she gets mad, you best leave her alone 'Cause she'll rage just like a river Then she'll beg you to forgive her Oh, she's every woman that I've ever known. She's so New York and then L.A. And every town along the way And she's every place that I've never been She's makin love on rainy nights She's a stroll through Christmas lights And she's everything I want to do again. It needs no explanation 'Cause it all makes perfect sense For when it comes down to temptation She's on both sides of the fence. No it needs no explanation 'Cause it all makes perfect sense When it comes down to temptation She's on both sides of the fence. She's anything but typical She's so unpredictable Oh but even at her worst she ain't that bad She's as real as real can be And she's every fantasy Lord she's every lover that I've ever had And she's every lover that I've never had

She’s Everything She's a bubble bath and candles Baby, come and kiss me She's a one glass of wine And she's feeling kinda tipsy She's the giver I wish I could be And the stealer of the covers She's a picture in my wallet And my unborn children's mother She's the hand that I'm holding When I'm on my knees and praying She's the answer to my prayer And she's the song that I'm playing And she's everything I ever wanted And everything I need I talk about her, I go on and on and on 'Cause she's everything to me She's the voice I love to hear And someday when I'm ninety She's that wooden rocking chair I want rocking right beside me Everyday that passes I only love her more Yeah, she's the one That I'd lay down my own life for And she's everything I ever wanted And everything I need She's everything to me Yeah, she's everything to me Everything I ever wanted And everything I need And she's everything to me 5. She's Everything (Paisley, Willis Nance) She's a yellow pair of running shoes A holey pair of jeans She looks great in cheap sunglasses She looks great in anything She's 'I want a piece of chocolate' 'Take me to a movie' She's 'I can't find a thing to wear' Now and then she's moody She's a Saturn with a sunroof With her brown hair a-blowing She's a soft place to land And a good feeling knowing She's a warm conversation That I wouldn't miss for nothing She's a fighter when she's mad And she's a lover when she's loving And she's everything I ever wanted And everything I need I talk about her, I go on and on and on 'Cause she's everything to me She's a Saturday out on the town And a church girl on Sunday She's a cross around her neck And a cuss word 'cause it's Monday

Identity Identity by Julio Noboa Polanco Let them be as flowers, always watered, fed, guarded, admired, but harnessed to a pot of dirt. I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed, clinging on cliffs, like an eagle wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks. To have broken through the surface of stone, to live, to feel exposed to the madness of the vast, eternal sky. To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea, carrying my soul, my seed, beyond the mountains of time or into the abyss of the bizarre. I'd rather be unseen, and if then shunned by everyone, than to be a pleasant-smelling flower, growing in clusters in the fertile valley, where they're praised, handled, and plucked by greedy, human hands. I'd rather smell of musty, green stench than of sweet, fragrant lilac. If I could stand alone, strong and free, I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed.