What? Doesn't everybody stand on the toilet lid and look out the window while brushing their teeth?
And yes, this pig has wings. Which is why it's one of my favourites: it reminds me that there is always hope that the impossible is possible.
Lucille Clifton has died. Here's one of her poems:
There is a girl inside
There is a girl inside.
She is randy as a wolf.
She will not walk away and leave these bones
to an old woman.
She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.
She is a green girl in a used poet.
She has waited patient as a nun
for the second coming,
when she can break through gray hairs
into blossom
and her lovers will harvest
honey and thyme
and the woods will be wild
with the damn wonder of it.
