1692 3 3
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By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
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1692 13 8
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I worry for the daffodils/
and there optimistic yellow bursts./
I worry for the over-eager clover,//
prodigious green on crepe myrtles,/
even for the early green of nut grass.
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1692 1 1
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The bathing suits are like Christmas dresses.
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1692 0 0
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Their faces covered in shadow, smiles so relaxing, a tall woman approached her, gently rubbing her face. Her lips moved with no sound, but Sora subconsciously understood what she said.
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1691 5 5
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I keep my love for you in me, /
like the egg of a worm,
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1691 5 3
|
All I wanted to know was: Am I coming close? You could have given me a clue. How was I to know how deep the scar ran? I always thought scars were superficial, but I was young, and willing – what did I know?
What would they have done if they had come
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1691 6 5
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One of the poems in my collection, One Day Tells its Tale to Another, published December 16, 2012. Available on Amazon. My first book!
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1691 5 4
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facts are facets are / things in the act // the truth speaks softly // as time saying amber / to the enduring sap // words come and go / like leaves like men // we the tree remain ...
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1691 3 2
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1691 7 4
|
He calls it an owl glass: he’s allowed: he’s six.
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1691 6 5
|
She stood there with her back to me and her dress around her ankles.
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1691 8 6
|
Your laugh used to startle the nurses.
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1691 1 1
|
After years of unsustainable binge spending and a global economic semi-meltdown, most people have had to cut back on their expenses. Many folks are struggling to make do in this new and bewildering economy and we are all learning to live on our means, rather than beyond…
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1691 0 0
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I met Barry Hannah once in my life. I’d come to Oxford, MS, to meet an entirely different writer whom I thought then and think now very highly of. I’d also come to escape from another slew of regrets. Oxford is a great city to run away to.
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1691 1 1
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1. The sparrows' heads revolve slowly when you press the red button, but the boxing glove attachments don't work.2. A weird weaving of voices, unmusical harmony. One phrase punctures the texture: “The empty slot.”3. Poems are processed into more useful verbal…
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1691 0 0
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Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.
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1691 2 2
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...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
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1691 7 4
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Food is silly. Eating is silly. Yet the camaraderie of sharing a table is not silly. It is sacred. It becomes silly when the jello arrives.
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1691 0 0
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1691 1 1
|
The crowd- which consisted of exclusively men with beards and djembe drums and women with hairly legs poking out of corduroy patchwork skirts- cowered and crawled in fear around the angry man-bomb, mortally frightened yet encouraged to shimmy because the
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1691 0 0
|
I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my
self-esteem. Or waistline.
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1691 7 2
|
I must have been six years old at that time, but the events of…
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1691 3 3
|
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1690 1 0
|
He first saw her stepping off a water taxi by the Long Docks in the rain at night, her right arm atrophied from some early childhood disease, dangling like an apology, her other holding a cigarette. Her wet black hair hung past her shoulders and her eyes
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1690 8 4
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(the vast preponderance of dark matter and dark energy discernible in these latter days begins to suggest just how dark the humor of existence is) . . .
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1690 4 4
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It was a dark and stormy night.
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1690 15 10
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1690 18 11
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For a few/
vivid weeks, deciduous shrubs and trees/
will seem to glow like flames and embers
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1690 2 1
|
He repeated these six words like a prayer. His only confession.
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1690 5 2
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Now they are sleeping in a poppy field, sun-drenched warm afternoon girls lying on their stomachs and sides, faces in flowers, and flowers blowing, blowing. If this afternoon were every afternoon, the world would be cured.
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