The note said: Come to Ferny Forest under boughs of night. Follow Coyote’s howl, for he will lead you true. Come to our long table. Your place is set, and blood will let. Nick a vein, mind the pain. Words of spell we’ll speak. Obscenities we’ll leak. And all, by morn, Medusa’s stone.
In a moment of reckless fury, Amanda buried her face in her pillow and screamed, her breath coming out in wheezing sobs. Then, panic overtook her next, as she fought to silence herself. She pounded her fists on her bed, the sobs turning into weeps. What if her mother came in to check on her? She was making too much noise. Amanda could see it now — her mother, craning her neck in the door without knocking, approaching her bed, inspecting every line of her face as if she were a machine part off an assembly line. But the door remained closed.
Amanda was in trouble this time. She had been allowed a rare moment of freedom and was permitted to take the bus home from soccer practice. But she missed the bus transfer and was an hour late and forgot to call. Her mother called the police, marched straight…
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I used to think it was figurative when people would say "sparks flew between them". But, for a long time now, I've known that the Old Wives were right. And oh I have such a story that I may never tell, and, as people would say, "God only knows".
For some, it wavers, I fancy, as does a candle’s flame. In others, it is compacted and hard, unreached by the light. Molecules from a veiled realm, finding fate and purpose. Unlucky are those without shields, for their radiance flows freely, a boon for all, but soon tainted.
What’s pulled us so far from shore Tethered no more to the drumbeat of the soul Senseless we fish further afield Stymied by the junk of jetsam From others who’ve been here before And shout for joy at fools’ gold So easy for the taking Then turning to tarnished tinfoil.
In a wild wind, I shoveled scoops of sandy snow. As I stopped for a gulping breath, I spied a wrapped-up lady pushing bulky mukluks along the sidewalk. Thin and straight she was, in a salt & pepper coat, and she stopped for a second to watch me throw snow over shoulder. Walked up to... Continue Reading →
Funny, how it comes. Boots in the snow by the mailbox. A pause, and a seeing. You know who your friends are, and they're not who you thought. Seems you're in the change of life, my friend. High fives are in order. No longer are they birds in a guilted cage.
That house on the hill- how many times have you passed it and wondered what goes on in their hearts? Is it wrong that you want to know, voyeur? And today you think, cocking your head to the side, of the Goddess who spooned out the land and treed it to sequester.
This attached head that hums, as merrily we roll along. That swells at the scent of compliments, but sees the pricking needle at the ready. That's testy as a new bruise. Has a black hole to do the vacuuming, and packs a straight razor, thinking of severed ears.
Walk with me today, I beg. I feel as if there are corpuscles of sunshine, even though the day's light is grey-filtered. It's all bought and paid for, no? So come, if you please. I hope you are not afraid that I might tell you secrets kept too long, and all the reasons for a... Continue Reading →