Christina Cicchelli is an eccentric artist and poet in Austin, TX.


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White birds always bring bad news

They caress imaginations that moan

for meaning, for a truth

These wicked imaginations whistling

at the worlds being built, whistling

at snake highways and lonely interstates

Suddenly feet don’t mean much

Imaginations make glass slippers

Can’t you see yourself in a new

pair in a new you when

imaginations roam they usually do so

in packs, often fighting to be seen

to be the first and the very best

There is a leader a big blue dream

That rides in on sparkling wheels

And eats away at grass and ground

And eats away at grass and ground

and licks its paws

and rests