the rain stunned me when it told me
this was not the mountain i needed
to tell it on. in fact, this was sacred land,
that of carnal computations & milkweed.
it’s toxic, this need for desirability
as it keeps us doubting.
always keeps me doubting.
i never doubted the truth i told
in the years following my befuddlement,
man, i’ll keep my cards close.
find it increasing as those vibrations float up,
up, up until they find a nice pocket of resound –
whoo, that one tasted good.
who, then, needs to tell it fact bold,
not sheepish but gets it culled?
anyone but me, i will withhold.

About the Poet:
Dylan Richardson is a 26-year-old emerging writer living in Conway, AR. He currently works at the University of Central Arkansas (UCA) where he is also pursuing his MFA in Creative Writing. He is a member of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) and loves writing poetry, flash fiction, and the occasional nonfiction piece. When he isn’t writing or spending time investing in the development of his students, he is almost certainly reading or playing video games. He is always happy to be wherever he is.
Leave a comment