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94% Battery Power Remaining
Last night I dreamt about a mutt whose tail never learned how to wag, and under a sun that gagged us with heat, the mutt sat stoned with its mouth belching cones of pot smoke. Sometimes the smoke shone orange – sometim
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I wrangle word juice
from the Oxford American, sighing at photographs of blues musicians with solemn lakes for eyes.
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They think Van Gogh heard music when he looked at his starry nights. Working at a Bingo parlor, you get to believing in a one-in-a-million shot just as much as you doubt the rarity of a sure thing.
I only worked part time at the bingo parlor because I ne
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When I no longer know you, what signal will you give to remind me that you and I once loved?
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So strange this feelingTo meet someone I've haven't really metTo know someone I don't actually knowTo desire to learn more but sure I never willTo feel connected not knowing what I'm connected toTo read words, thoughts, feel moved by them, but never hear a voice
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"I made up my mind then, in the backseat, sucking on a cherry Popsicle, that I wanted to be like Ruby’s mother..."
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My boyfriend unequivocally believed in the existence of aliens. He was the Mulder to my Scully, though when I said so, he had no idea what I was talking about. I never understood how someone so E.T. obsessed could have missed 'The X-Files'.He would look skyward, eyes…
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I try again. "You can make a big cup by putting your hands and fingers together, see?"
He glares at me. "A giant could make a big cup," he says. "A giant could make a giant cup."
I thought so before, and I’ll say it again. A little genius.
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The beachy slope
never draws such goliaths.
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Face defined-front part of head
Cybil's eyes stick to a mirror and guard the woman's skin. The woman's image could be the result of uncontrolled narcissism, yet dry wrinkles are visible from her reflection. Disguise cream covers some of the woman's c
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If you find the place they forgot to bomb send me a hot pink postcard. The planet is only so big. We're already dipping our heels into the waters without wanting to become true believers, miserable followers. The bedtime stories will have to…
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In the cicada's cry No sign can foretell How soon it must dieBasho "Hear the locusts?" The woman lifts the child's head. "Hear em, baby?" The child looks blankly in the…
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A cow wanders onto a roof and falls through the skylight. It's a calamity, but such an innocent mistake. Mightn't you amble onto a rooftop once upon a full winter snow in Vermont?Another cow climbs a gravel mound in…
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Give me back my / singularity, my tristesse, my photo ID.
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She wears three or four tattered sweaters on cool days. She pushes a basket borrowed from a grocery store. There is a plastic lawn bag in the basket with God knows what inside.
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Is every librarian a poet at heart? I don't know, but a group of librarians recently put their heads together and came up with these library-themed Valentine's Day poems: Roses are red Your book's overdue You've had it for months Which is…
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and dreamed itself infinite.
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At first we thought metadata rich, non-hierarchical, network based, multi-provider filesystems were our future. An arduous journey but well worth the efforts for the beforehand unimaginable user experiences enabled by new technologies that thereupon displaced the…
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To See Who's There Able these days to search through centuries, I click, scribble, cut and paste, skim, reject, record, resurrect a wet stone wall, the smell of burning peat. Bob's your uncle, Peggy's …
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On the day they were born, the old mother eagle named her chicks Faith, Hope, and Charity.
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In his fridge he had one piece of meat. He hadn’t been expecting me. I cooked it for him and watched him eat.
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we're only playing with this language you and I
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It's the little things that trip us
up: a small hole in a level field,
an innocuous root in a well-trod
path, a disinclined sidewalk...
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Tony sat down in the hotel room with his back against the wall. He had a handsome face, with three-day stubble growing from it, his pupils very large as if frightened by something, or from deep thought. In his hand, was the winning lottery, Periodically he would get up…
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Without warning his eyes expertly navigated into a closed position setting off the dream machine long without power until this very second.
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When it was time to leave, she lingered beside you,
bidding you to come again.
I flicked my cat, dog tail, indifferent.
She wanted to lick your cheek.
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Seventeen-year cicadas are the sometimes-singers that surprise spring with the ugliest mouths of all.
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It's Granny hauling her crooked soul into heaven. Guess who I stole that image from?
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. . . catching her breath somewhere between ecstasy and surprise. . .
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Dark hung over the night like an occupation force. Across the street a Cuban diner fought it off with green and yellow neon lights, Latin rhythm beating through the air.
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