Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
At bedtime, those dark blooms in her room. In coffee mornings, the dregs of her cup.At lunch, in her rusted car, the depths of her purse. The tunnel vision of her darkened spirit. The hurried look of a long-time user. And, on this day, the hand-like shadow on the x-ray plate. *** image: https://pixabay.com/users/joenomias-2512814/
At some days' end, I feel as if I have stepped my last- propping up this frame, these unpadded shoulders, boned as a scarecrow. Dithering with the primal thoughts of a child. Open-armed, palms in supplication. I bow down, I do. Image: pixabay.com
Fifty years on, in my sad unpacking, this time of letting go, I find, pressed between panes, a polaroid. A face is fuzzily framed in one angled corner, and I think it's you. A blur of bouncy ponytail, laughing eyes and bunny teeth. Looking up, waving goodbye to balloons released, bound for a section of... Continue Reading →
His ears have been ringing for thousands of days, as from a hard slap, but it stays and it stays. A similar sound to a siren that plays without losing its pitch pipe perfection. A strangling snake seems to coil, and to tighten. Never to loosen, never to lighten. Its singular purpose to cow and... Continue Reading →
AreMyFeetOffTheGround 