Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
They come to hurt, at inopportune times. Finned and fishy notions, marauding like sharks- hammerheads in teapot oceans. I've a head full of dark, as I drive. Under a rainy tree, a young woman. Her eyes, they follow. On quantum strings, they remonstrate- ~Be kind. Be kind~ Artist:Ivan Aivazovsky
As if the deck had been shuffled by some calculating clown, we were thrown together. More than once. More than thrice. Our two wrongs. But, oh! You made me blush with your side-eyes and staccato smiles. Guilty am I of grievous commissions in a secret heart. *** Image: https://pixabay.com/users/gepharts3d-112682/
Dreamt figmentspushing the day's white envelope; conducting a march of left-footed circles. I am no Joker, I do not think. Image: https://pixabay.com/users/spiritbunny-16389/
The immediate- awash with musts and can'ts. The distance glitters.
~The night man. When it's time, he has packages for me. Seven a week. No time off for good behavior. They always fascinate, though I must buy them with pieces that have been dear to me. In his thrall, I awake each day a little closer to childhood.~ image: https://pixabay.com/users/delphinmedia-348407/
Endings today- A small thing, as if hit, flails its last on the hot roadway, its doubtful heart and kicking legs wanting only to run, to run. And I have done murder, my mower surprising some bees and fledgling frogs who wanted only sweetness and shade. This grass will grow now. *** image credit: https://pixabay.com/users/thomaswolter-92511/
An Aria for the Sky A Hymnal for the Earth An Anthem for the Ocean A symphony for the Sun *** Image from Pixabay
We sleep separately (good neighbours that way) I plug in and am known as Vader. The motors of her snore are like a cheetah's purr and, of late, she reports things that go bump- a slammed door something in the ceiling talkative ghosts We hold hands with long, long arms. *** Image: Pixabay
I have threads, vignettes. Some fleshed out. Others at loose ends. This unseemly train has lost its brakes- can't stop at ancient stations. Those sad confreres are left stranded, waving. *** image credit: https://pixabay.com/users/sjb3949-533112/
I tasted shampooas I lay in the dry tub,all bones pill-broken,noseblood in rivuletson porcelain. And my desperado thought:Come to me now,for I cannot reach for youany more.
AreMyFeetOffTheGround 