Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
Month: November 2019
IT’S A TRAP!
Hah! Squeak now, smelly one! Study me, damn me, with your hatpin eye. Not much can you say. Not much can you hear with your velvet ear. We don’t need to “raise the bar” for YOU, do we? As you lie in your hard bed, your crucifixion’s a warning- IT’S A TRAP!
MoreEmber month
Sundown at Nipissing’s shoreline, and the big lake begins its freeze. The soft fire of November’s embers pleases the eye, but can’t warm us. I stand in the cold cold sand that waits for winter’s cover, and think of unimportant things: that there will be no more drifting things, maybe until June. And, where do […]
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By the sea
Clarice sees the Sea, breathes its dreams, soaks in its mists by a foggy rock. When all the world’s compasses begin to list to her true north, Clarice will speak in tongues, and name the Suns, in legion. Glory will be to the one who is not named, and who was the maker of her […]
MorePlanters wart
Johnny-come-lately, I plant bulbs stupidly in the cooling earth under powder of snow with a straight spade I dig up cake-flaps of sod I disregard directions and just drop them in, the oniony things. This blasted blizzard. I drop to one knee, hard of breathing, hit by BB’s of ice
Morea longing
gimme that potato salad with the mustard sauce and the bacon those fried mushrooms with the smell rising mind my big nose pressed flatly against foggy glass approve my flirtatious hands as they make fake feetprints for amusement, in lieu of art, on grey glass in threenight, i will be at this same tall door […]
Moreglare
Originally posted on Within A Forest Dark:
Boa, Jonathan Kriz, flickr North Carolina summer night at Mama’s, with Jeff playing with the boa as it arcs and stretches toward the chandelier, the sweet scent of mountain laurel wafting through the window, Jeff and I doubled in fits of laughter, high. Mama turning on the light,…
The doubtful King
Sober Second Thought’s buckled down, still, on his moldering throne. Wand waving, face saving, keeping the faith. Watching, with detachment, nervous amusement, and what’s close to despair, as things begin to twitch and soulless eyes begin their backward roll.
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