Monthly Archives: April 2010
Cult of Benevolence
A group chant in the back room. Espresso machines hiss in the main. The chanters clap. I may know the words but I drink the standard drip black up here with coffee jerks. I was no mixologist. Sometimes it still … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
In the Literary Commons
Words read upside down, written at an angle, the floor vibrates when people pass by. Sticks for the wobbly table—that one’s mine. I will use any excuse to be this shaken without visible calamity.
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Tags East
She’s going to repeat herself. Another third rail near miss, search for a boat to catch before it goes beneath that bridge. Guardian angels smirk behind glass block. A white fire truck unhooked and parked at the curb. Self-plagiarize enough, … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
No Access
A different cast of characters, the chain of cause and effect drapes across the same forbidden entrance. She burns through them too intensely on an old diesel train passing through towns named after men she knew for a night or … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Reflecting Pool: A Cinquain
To be farther along this lilac scented lane is better than further into mirrors.
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Census Blanks
Rebellion in long black boots and Paper Mate flare ink. Are those hearts on the cap clip—a branding she wouldn’t trust? Never bother with a steady pace. No grace in her stride toward another pair of male arms. It hurts … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
In the Audience with Eyes Closed
Speaking in captions, she drinks nostalgia from a red rock glass. It tastes almost sour—sweet kicked in the jaw with a steel toed boot firmly encasing the foot of a man she used to know. In biblical stories, the knowing … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Exposure Closure
To cash in a past, pick a year—1992, better yet 1991— would be too easy. I’m done being easy. Narratives wrap around words compressed. A loose loop of letters with clear beginning, middle, end would be a legible expose yourself … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems
Record Store Day
What’s left of her independence could be lost on those leaves budding too early to be in tune. Survival of the opportunistic—the fittest in a fancy new suit. Who would wear a dress, a tie, to a basement house party … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Wellington Place
After all these years, all you have said, you’re still afraid of him. He has only a few words left. They won’t hurt. Rarely did. It was the ones he threw at those around you. To be so privileged can … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
