more of a start... |
Looking out over the tar-mat, fulfilling his duties as a new Peter felt something change in him. He had become familiar. Ordinary. The only posture to correct
was Emmas, as she fidgeted in her seat, r...
Posted by on Mon, 07 Aug 2006 20:58:00 GMT |
a start... |
*
In an effort to get people to look
into each others eyes more
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words per day
When the telephone rings...
Posted by on Fri, 04 Aug 2006 00:46:00 GMT |
***** |
Mighty with a spatula. "I'm good at cooking" is getting to be my famously repetitive comment, but ultimately an acceptable conversation starter. However, despite boasts without agenda, my planned egg...
Posted by on Thu, 06 Jul 2006 19:23:00 GMT |
Midnight Linoleum |
Midnight LinoleumMarlon sat at his steel, lukewarm desk, elbows spread to its edges, slapping his fingers against typewriter keys to the sloshing, ink repetition of his brain's effuse. He was trying t...
Posted by on Fri, 16 Jun 2006 20:41:00 GMT |
Bonjour, Madame Red Bull |
A testy street lays lowbricks for fingersthumbing our walking shoes, likea folk god plucks his soul.I'm starving but you're the onewithout food, driving and drivingwith drop foot pedal and heavyhands ...
Posted by on Wed, 07 Jun 2006 14:54:00 GMT |
Mama |
Four door diesel death chasm.That's what mother drives.Throwing her drinks, wildlyout of power windows.Martini stems destroyed on pavement graves of salt and cardboard.Frugality is key in the open-air...
Posted by on Wed, 07 Jun 2006 14:52:00 GMT |
Sogni Lacrimi |
Sogni Lacrimi"You dream tears"milk and melatoninsift overand overlike bay saltin my eyelidsthe washer on "spin dry"slopping the shifting steelwith detergent dozingI lie in you, dryerfreckled and fraye...
Posted by on Fri, 19 May 2006 16:28:00 GMT |
Rhyme: Discontent |
I bring my scrabble to the table to spit sorrowful words
Dropping verses in flocks, shifting rhymes in herds
&nbs...
Posted by on Mon, 24 Apr 2006 21:59:00 GMT |
Constancy |
I cannot but perceive thatthis so called rich and refined lifeis any more than the jumpof a stone, curling into the windfrom the dirty fingersof a boyThe rapture of shattering panesand the curl of hou...
Posted by on Mon, 03 Apr 2006 19:07:00 GMT |
Indian Ocean Blues |
Hail Mary Full of VirtueFatima would light two cigarettes, inhale gently, bring the burning paper to a nice rounded end, and then place them in small, ceramic tray, leaving them smoldering and untouch...
Posted by on Fri, 24 Mar 2006 11:49:00 GMT |
