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Swords of Romeby Christopher Lee BucknerHello readers,The following is chapter Two of my Roman epic, Swords of Rome. The book is available to buy on Amazon: A special limited time offer of $0.99 for Kindle readers, and $14.99 for…
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I know I was hungry, she says
to herself, maybe.
I was hungry for what
you had to offer. Your
fast car, your dad’s
ski boat, your prettiness,
your beautiful mouth,
your eyes, and yes for
the joy you could give me
between the legs.
B
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They wait for me every morningthese two furry four legged catswhen they hear my car,their eyes open wide and they nuzzle each otherin anticipationof the food I bring them
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The manic,/
looking on, finds and polishes//
the sharp green shard and bottle cap
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It is wonderful to talk to Mick Jagger in his hotel room. He is absolutely charming, and the women filling the room seem as natural as the sound of rain or the play of sunlight.
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Sunday Night She wasn't hungry, hadn't eaten for days, wouldn't even touch the food I took time off my fuckin' schedule to bring her myself. I walked through puddles of dirt and dog shit, I did. By the time she opened the door after four knocks, I was drenched,…
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The world follows me everywhere. I can’t get rid of it. I’m being stalked by a planet.
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I'll see her this fall, a redhead in camo
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In the sides of mountains the rivers rush through and who would stop them as they gain a hold on the world? For silences they keep just then, as if from a larger wisdom and different clock. Pink moons and funny coins with the heads of lions and lambs, and the quarter…
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They wink at me as if to share/
a cosmic joke whose punch line’s still/
a couple dozen light years out
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...cinched the handcuffs.
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Angelo stood to the side and lit a cigarette.
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you are on a missing boat in the middle Of a fogged out notion of some sort. A no nonsense paddle could be made out Of something as intangible as an Incoming wave. This could also be a Floating thought up map, man. In…
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His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.
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To still make Emily smile. Even Today. On the street where Paper lives and works I'm Making this small effort out Of a few stray letters and An attitude like a chip On the kicked about shoulder. I don't Know, I think she deserves it. …
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I was in a bar waiting for a friend when two ugly women sat next beside me. When our eyes met, they gave me a smile. I smiled back out of courtesy. I wasn't in the mood to have a conversation not because they're unattractive, but my friend was horribly…
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The earmuffs, a fine pale green, are tilted slightly to the left, threatening to quash her in their magnitude. Her eyes, sharp sparkling blue, focus for a flash, looking for applause or assurance, or perhaps just approval. Safe, behind…
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"GROW A PAIR AND DRIVE! DRIVE!!"
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I knew there was something wrong with the sunset when I woke up.
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Michael lay on his back and counted his breaths, measuring their depth of inhalation and release.
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Small wonders, her worthless,priceless treasures fortify the wallswhile hoarded trinkets protect her like armor against memoriesof a desperate past.
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With a deep breath she closed her eyes. Azure saw where she was at through night vision.
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She lived a good life she told herself. She lived a good life because she demanded little- little materialistic comforts that is- at least this is what she thought- and what she demanded anyway was simple, aesthetic; sophisticated and perhaps even neat. Yes she was a neat…
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Too young to stay interested for long in the words I was reading. My father said the man was very intelligent and most of his writing was hard to understand.
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We believe in our love storyin spite of the ferocious efforts ofserial bankerseverywhere to discourage us from looking our damned nearprettiest if we really feel like it. I meangranted they do do their ugly troll dogimpressions of…
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one season slips into another
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She found herself suddenly awake at five. She laid there in their bed while downstairs the coffee maker waited for her to press its button so it might gurgle and hiss, filling the pot with wakefulness. The dishwasher waited too, waited for her to throw its latch…
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Here comes the bus. It’s going to Tuscany and is full of pronouns: he, she, me, you, it, them, us, we, and you again.
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Lover’s leap to a bank of smooth shale/
Where I sat drinking beer that past summer/watching a group of hard shell Baptists/line up to be saved in it’s muddy waters
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