Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
“I have a hunger” - Those words,spoken in a formal manner,were as stillborn, as heavy as a stonecradled in an apron.And, what does one do with this thing you’ve said-you, who were always the comic,furthest from the dead.Taken aback,in slow shock I cup your hand-not leading you to bed,but into nightfall’s garden.We sup on the... Continue Reading →
A broken lace. A secret place. A baby face. A bell. A ponytail. A woodland trail. A sunlit vale. A spell. *** Photo: Pinterest
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/
~I drove a car two hundred miles today. I know we're not supposed to hug, but a woman cried in my arms as I despaired for her world. She said you are my big brother, then pushed me away. At home, the cat follows me. There is food. What could he be needing?~
Once, within my hearing, and thinking himself alone, he said I wish I were dead. And I didn't man up to that. I god damn kept my hands in my pockets and shied away from his tortured road. And now, in my time of life, I see to it that things are kept clean, most... Continue Reading →
You know a Joe. Lots of us do. My Joe, well, he's got it bad. Back in the day, my Joe was kinda livin' the Dream. With a nice young wife, a good job that he liked, and, with it all, a beautiful little daughter growing up fast. A bit too fast. Young, impressionable, sullied... Continue Reading →
Cast your line into the soft static of six days from now. Feet up, warm cup, and let someone in. One who's been down. Yes, that's the one, my love.
~Fifty said to Fifty~ Time is growing short, growing cold. Know that i will be with you, all the way to the next time. Be on guard, lest I drift into the lock of sleep. Charge through the night, that you may play in broad day. Put away the fearsome fear, until another year.
Once, I peeled back a peekaboo page, thinking to find what lay beneath- some lines writ in a flowing hand that only I would understand. But that leaf, so soft and supple, had done its unkind blot, and what was inked so deeply had faded from my thought. A litmus for lost love.
Karla had just turned 42, three nights after Christmas. At a brisk pace, she hurried back home from the corner store in the cold dark dribbling rain. Up the six steps of cracked concrete, she turned her bent key to the apartment lobby. Still dripping, she heard the same old squeal of her very own... Continue Reading →
AreMyFeetOffTheGround 