Tilt, then, gerbil wheel— I will put you right again ev’ry time you fall. Outside, car’s passenger seat finally clean—too late now.
Typical Friday at High Noon Like an Easy-Bake Oven from hell, the sun stiffens mud and a lone worm screeches in his mother tongue as he’s slowly Han Soloed in the carbonite of home. That eagle over there isn’t all that eager to pry him out. In the distance, Vin Diesel high fives Poseidon. BuoysContinue reading “Typical Friday at High Noon”
There once was a loogork named Darg who nightly camped out in my yard. I offered him fish and fresh pretzel sticks which he took as a trade for his log.
The Seventeen like laughter-clatter, ArmaLite refuse echoes up the hall. A shrill metal bird has been paid to sing arson and lure us to fire. Riddled, we watch as others prod, fiddle with our holes, feel for the thin veil of prayer the dosh demands be woven –ever retroactively–into our skin. Let their fingers burn.Continue reading “The Seventeen”
Sick of tradition, Frosty tosses his corn cob pipe into the fire. As he does, a bit of his arm gets over-warm and sloughs off as slush on the bearskin rug. “Typical,” Frosty mutters. He shuffles back a few feet. He would sweat nervously if he could afford it, but the Californian winter, ever shortContinue reading “A Snowman Scene”
Coat hangers dissolve as the years pass and no one recalls where to hang their hats.
I’m miserably scribbling at my desk feeling rather ill, if the devil’d do my work I think I’d take that deal. I don’t care the price I’d pay– ironic twists? Fine. Sure. Just do it soon before I spew: this laptop’s not insured.
I forgot to post a new poem yesterday– in other news: trees.
He didn’t mean to hit the badger. Hell, he’d never seen a badger before, ‘xcept in books and nature magazines from when he was a kid. It was an alien thing, and death had nothing to do with it. If anything, death made it more relatable. More real. He pondered it on the roadside. SplayedContinue reading “Roadkill”
On Sleep For me, waking up’s a real task. Anyone will confirm if you ask. I’d rather sleep in until forty past ten and serve myself lunch for breakfast.