Lion’s Heart Volume I: Alisha Knaff

Grass Roots Movement

Clumps of weeds straining through the cement
Push towards life-giving light
Muddy feet mash their shoots into green smears
Water cannot cure their photosynthetic sickness
And the clouds that block the sun bring no rain
These grotesque invaders with their grasping tendrils
Cannot pacify my desire for vegetation.


Bollocks, the Laundry

I polish off the pollock before I begin.
“Bollocks, the laundry”
what a quandary I’m in.
My doctor’s a quack
his lips smack when he grins.
A throwback to Hippocratus,
it should be a sin.
My grandpa’s in surgery
to fix up his eyes.
His cataracts were brainiacs
convinced he’s a spy.
The almanac said Kerouac
wouldn’t harm a fly.
My reflexes slack
I see no reason why.
So I hack at the seal
on the box full of soap,
trying my darnedest not to give up all hope.
I sit at the table
determined to mope
and fix me a snack
at the end of my rope.


Ms. Knaff has been dabbling in this writing thing for well on 25 years now. She still has a long way to go.