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The Walk of Shame

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There it was One abandoned high heel shoe on the sidewalk Could have been Some kind of robbery Though Maybe it was just The beginning of the Walk of shame

Improvisation on a few lines by Mark Strand

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I am tripping on poetry. Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.

On A Carport in Bethlehem

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I can hear soft rain

Island Numbers

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an island hidden in the sound holds treasure

Against Poetry

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If you had a choice, be a poet or not, I’d suggest prose for the lines that you jot.

Follow My Lead

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I ran down the list of reasons she might be calling. She could be bankrupt, having a mid-life crisis, or maybe had a terminal illness. Either way I was clueless, as I had absolutely no emotional bond with the woman I came out of.

...until love lasts.

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She didn't know why she thought the ring wouldn't fit her finger, but it slid on easily and effortlessly, coming to rest in the old familiar place it always had, the groove that had worn in her finger after seven years of wearing it. She hadn't worn it in a few months,…

Flower Power

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"Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels."--William Carlos WilliamsThere is something beautiful I want to say to you that doesn't seem to make much more sense in a box of clever words like this one. It feels closer to…

Nothing Ever Stays Looking

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The same, some things you Can't explain, most trees Have felt it go bone dry at the roots before. I've learned to let love Go bye bye. You think they don't Want to answer your pathetic knocks, But they're…

Waist Deep in Tissue Packs

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It didn't matter if they burned or not.

Gilbert B Fumbleberry

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“You know, Miss Viv, I love looking at the sun when it’s almost gone. It kinda looks like an orange and apple squished together. Those are the colors. And the puffy clouds under it look like a bed. It’s going to sleep."

Before the Divorce

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Me leaving is not the confirmation of all your fears. It is not. It's because of them.

Panic Pure

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He said, “It was only after I broke my neck and even like maybe a year later that I really started realizing that I had something to say.”

Galileo Worries About His Weight

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I, Seer of the Stars, Cartographer of the Cosmos, / measure my mass, and to whom do I owe this woe...

Snowdrop White

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We light cigarettes, take turns putting them out on each other's arms, legs, anywhere hard without a mark. It's living, he says, it's better to know you're alive than feel nothing at all. My brother is two years older than you, I was thinking on Tuesday,…

SNIPS & SNAILS & PUPPY-DOG TAILS IS THE *LEAST* OF IT! by Ranting Bitch in a Cold, Cold World

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Last Visit to Mauritius Island

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So I threw away all my stuff, because I was tired of it, and because I decided I wanted to revive the Oral Tradition. I figured if it was good enough for our ancestors, it couldn't be all that bad, not that I’m really into history or cultural stagnancy o

Wilderness

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We call this game the end of the world...

Rabbit Trail

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Sorrow fences with fear and questions

gravelortian part 25

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I come up and out of the hole onto a village street in the middle of a parade celebrating the arachnid god.

Roanne Smiled

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With some of these guys it was like propping a kid on a training-wheel bike, then steering the kid down the street til he figured out what to do next. Tricks would come into the bar. Roanne had a smile for all but the dregs…

Leaky Guts

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One day, Dasha confessed to Igor that she had an incurable illness: Purple emptiness.

Sushi's Night Out

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... she’d stolen her boyfriend away from her, leaving her with a goldfish and a cat. Oh, and a pillow and some lights, she added. And I can’t really see you, because I’m blind.

Free Magic Lessons

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" No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing."--T.S. EliotI think, okay now I know, the poem's starting to wear off. But I'm alive, at least…

My Daughter Belongs In a Mental Home

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Confession

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It is not simple to love in two places, and I have always been a restless woman waiting for signs. Then you appeared walking on my very grave while the stars aligned themselves in patterns of celestial light. I have watched the moon eclipse with you drawing breath…

Barnegat Bay

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I whispered, “I love you” and then, “Goodbye”

postscript

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the sand is hot to walk upon so you must run if caught there w/out footwear. it is like a painter has colored the sea and made parts of it dark blue yet other areas green. little birds jump around the fine grain world and that is when you wonder where they came…

Women of God

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I keep the book when the lessons are done, go through the pages Momma skipped over...

Five Million Yen: Chapter 60

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Thérèse Defarge felt the first drop around ten.