A journal of semi-detached poetry.

Margaret King - Poems (2)


The quiet forests of this place
masked a raging battle for souls and hearts.
When I leave here, don't uproot me. Rather,
let me be a cutting grafted onto a new horizon
and let my roots remain behind, buried.
Let the pines that stand sentinel at the lakeshore
Guard them silently, as a grave
And then let me never come back here.
Never let me return.

Midwest, For the Lovers

What a bunch of lies, what a set of illusions


I had

But how can you


Be so sad, so lonely,

After all these years?

I wish I had picked someone

More available and willing

To love than you,

It’s true,






[I should say

Your ability to love

Was never in question


It was your ability

To find yourself



Here I am

In the middle of a vast continent

In the middle of a vast country

And you always said

The universe keeps expanding

Which means

We’re all just moving further apart


But what I can’t bear to admit

Is that if I’m in the middle of it all

Everything’s just moving

Further apart

From me.

(Text © M. King - Publication: Winter 2017-2018)



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