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K. D. Rose is a poet and author.

K. D.’s book, Inside Sorrow, won Readers Favorite Silver Medal for Poetry.

Her poetry, essays, and short stories have been published in Word Riot, Chicago Literati, Poetry Breakfast, BlazeVOX Journal, Ink in Thirds, The Nuclear Impact Anthology, Stray Branch Magazine, Literary Orphans, and others. Publication is forthcoming in Eastern Iowa Review, Lunch Ticket Arts and Literary Magazine, Santa Fe Literary Magazine, Northern Virginia Review, Hermes Poetry Magazine, Maintenant Contemporary Dada Magazine, Slipstream, Wild Women’s Medicine Circle Journal, and The 2016 Paragram Press Anthology. She also won an Honorable Mention in the 2016 New Millennium Writings Poetry Contest.

Her last release was Brevity of Twit. Her new book DreamPoem will be out in summer 2017. She has a B.S. in Psychology and a Master’s Degree in Social Work. Member: Poetry Society of America.  Member: Poets and Writers. Member: Academy of American Poets.

 

First published in Literary Orphans.

Reaping dreams—

I have them, more or less than others.

Not a contest of territories.

Simple survival,

                        more or less,

the kind that can make you harden, cold.

The freeze that never thaws.

Stay gold, Ponyboy.

 

No time, slow time.

The ticket to our monstrosities.

No out. No gliding to the light in vitriol.

“Who can compare?” screams what is left of nobility,

brimming will, cut down to a stump,

death head, full of fuel.

 

Games immortals play. The pretext of clown;

upside of your dark side.

Winter kissed,

I fight for alternate endings

while you engage in sexy toy talk.

A feral ballet,

vanishing finally like traces of snow on the lawn.

 

I have before me books on a wall,

the laughter, or is it rage, of crows behind,

broadcast to the sky, in depth, inside.

An image comes with the engine.

Torn out teeth; no sleep.

 

Abandoned, you’re never off the brink.

It follows you like a dirty instrument

waiting to play it’s melody.

A slender imprint to a dappled persona,

my concrete I, and in the stripes I see

the red in our flag. Hemorrhaging.

 

Mental and physical.

A brush within, a blush without.

No use to close your eyes.

 

Noiseless walk in empty rooms lost

            endless or endless

embrace of your dying brother

half a leg on the dirt,

half of you, caught.

 

Play it loose.

See the door to the basement.

 

Don’t choose.

 

Stay in touch with K.D.Rose so you don’t miss the release of Dream Poem

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