Poetry
word of the news
Fall winds carried word of the news. They’d been drinking, and wrapped the car around a tree. An entire life, though brief, only in her late teens– eulogized, neatly summarized, with two dimensional indifference on inky-finger newsprint. Whether read, or cast aside to read the sales flyers, or the sports section, makes no difference now. […]
assurances, and misgivings
assurances and misgivings promises and whispers in the darkness sometimes we spoke of forever and sometimes I can almost remember her name she danced for me in a quiet room smiling, demure in the flickering glow I could sense her vulnerability– assurances and misgivings I turned to embrace her and she was gone An ancient […]
mute
late-August’s sun graced sandy-pine shadows lighting upon her hair, windblown it took me a moment to realize amid her hazel-eyed kindness amid the tangle of muddled words she was deaf and she spoke, as I listened still, she’d heard all I’d said though I hadn’t yet spoken she locked eyes a forgiveness, known to be […]
simplicity
imagine, for a moment a mutual admiration a sincere appreciation without the imprisonment of expectation a kinship, a blood bond between we– beautifully flawed humans might we try this, just once,– are we not worth this? I’d thought us both to be wishing a bit of simplicity and perhaps in wishing more of this we […]
deserts of a soul
night in the desert is a black loneliness without a top surface through which to spirit to heaven’s amber promise and without sides, endless tho with a tenuous bottom and for which there is no apt metaphor tho, this desert is– us speeding across the Sonoran tall cacti, loosely huddled in threes lurch over dim […]
brazen, and sublime
it’s a cold wind from the west tonight not a wolf’s howl nor a fool’s whistle but a dark tide’s swell a rolling rhythm of haunting souls their mingling moans– unintelligible tho understood, each still known and then each– becoming muddled with the next and betwixt, an absence a silence, wishing to be filled awaiting […]
blunt trauma
this isn’t my kind of bar my teeth are crooked blunt trauma and my nose has been broken from putting my face through a windshield the lady next to me is fussing, nasally squealing because her drink has no olive the glasses are clean too clean all the talk the cacophonous din deafening is about […]
Gray-Bone Gristly Things
before being a mother before being a grandmother before being Born Again she was simply Muriel the memory of this former self preserved in red-lipstick pictures she’d loved a lot of men or she would have, had she known how and perhaps she still did, in her own way she married several, nobody is sure […]
where we took our sanctuary
no one could touch us– where we took our sanctuary outside the door addicts and criminals whispered and whimpered and shouted foul slurs in dark halls further, beyond the swinging glass doors blue-collar towns avoided their river-drownings by a mere few feet of elevation salvation, being mostly perspective my hands traveled fingers brushing over her […]
devils, and angels
is this what you’d have of me? tho we’ve learned– each time judgment’s dented axe swings its rust-speckled murder there is a lessening and is this what we’ve become? of all the rustle we’d once been hideous, and beautiful if there be any difference devils, and angels if there be any distinction now cleaved, and […]