wednesday |
steam tea sits prettyin chapped knuckles and the brief pink light of winter.
Posted by on Thu, 20 Nov 2008 05:58:00 GMT |
too soft |
We're just out here, afraid of becoming boring. Rising and riding with the sun, going home early and eating well. Wanting no more than our own space to share and a little freedom. Feeling well a...
Posted by on Sun, 02 Nov 2008 04:26:00 GMT |
the hip top radio |
Worst puns and best tunes, marketplace rules. According to animal shelters everywhere, owners can't afford their pets any longer. The economy may be going to the dogs but at least shelters still ...
Posted by on Wed, 02 Jul 2008 21:12:00 GMT |
Its a little like cigarettes |
The smell of fermentation in my nose, and with toes, floured, pink with the cold, I wished it was snowing at the end of June. Sitting and reading words not really meant to be read, words i can't reall...
Posted by on Tue, 24 Jun 2008 04:14:00 GMT |
Not so bad anymore |
Cup first, make sure it's cleanno dents or stains. Don't go it alone-wait for other drip drinkers dosing and dunking.Hide that tattoo-an arrow or the letter S maybe an L for lu...
Posted by on Thu, 05 Jun 2008 16:12:00 GMT |
dream |
if the entire world would just breathe deeply, securely, together, cool and billowing- we could solve anything.the united nations of positive air
Posted by on Sat, 19 Jan 2008 13:57:00 GMT |
the time we drank |
the timewe drankso much pepperminttea that washalf hot creamand honey.caloric intakemaximized forno money.coffee shopon a cold cold day.
Posted by on Mon, 05 Nov 2007 14:39:00 GMT |
sometimes hard tack is hard |
and sometimes it's easy
sitting next to a pile of chipatis, a stack of hardtack, and a bowl full of rising dough, i think baking is better than sleep.
Posted by on Thu, 25 Oct 2007 15:54:00 GMT |
janitorial aspirations |
I'm learning to flip chairs and bar stools one-handed, soon maybe two at once?
and maybe one day, someday, Bryan will let me dust the beer bottle collection.
Posted by on Thu, 18 Oct 2007 18:01:00 GMT |
pops |
coffee just to calm down; because i am your daughter these cups remind me of crude. our words slip silently past eachother. dead oil on synthetic grease.
you always burn your tongue
Posted by on Sat, 22 Sep 2007 01:42:00 GMT |
