“Good morning!” appears atop of the stream, a foolhardy greeting for a pile of memes posted by parrots petering political puff to make our mouths smile or cause them to huff. Oblivious addicts, under-the-bridge trolls, we stretch out our fingers for our morning scrolls.
I fell in love with a girl named Conviction. We are inseparable. When I walk, I walk with Conviction. When I speak, I speak with Conviction. Before her I was faithless, with her I believe.
The hours behind the sun stretch out to the curve of the universe then turn an inverted trek unto the shadowed earth, the space heater long gone out. Time cannot be heard in outer space. Its needle tip flashes to prick the fringe of fabric the patchwork quilt a chair-bound scientist wove with threads on … More Eight Last Minutes of Light
Walk beneath my canopy, aerial assaults pinging as you find a pace. In April’s warm mist your cheeks I keep dry. Hold me and I hold you, the infant wrapped in the folds of her mother’s arms. On clear days you hide me and I take comfort in the act. Hidden on the floor of … More Our Complicated Public Union
Yours is the letter I cannot will myself to pen. I fear the contents will be too vast, the envelope too weak to seal. I fear the words will be too heavy, the postage too expensive to afford. This ink is laden with the breach of silence that has been my years since you. Shouts … More Copyright Permissions
April brings out the sunglassed ladies who don their frames on an afternoon bus ride through South Boston. Yuppie chicks and their bug eyes and dark lenses hide vulnerable souls from interlocutors found on smart phone applications they meet over drinks. Polarized eyes aid the creation of plausible lies. Vanity is victorious. There in the front of … More Sunlight on the Number 9
jam on wheat sticky tiny fingers checkered picnic blanket pale green marks collect upon knees ruined Sunday’s best wooded journey opens cool clearings comfort murky forests enclose the fallen oak a prone giant still ever resilient humid afternoons serve as the onions cut making angels to cry their fat tears pelt your soft head drip … More Sylvan
Delicate skin fleshy bulb petite royalty. So soft, so small. Plump, round, majestic lingering on green vine. Shine beneath Apollo’s rays! Blood as red as your own pulses through my body now, my gaze fixed on you. I lust for the truth you hold, but I know you will not satisfy intellectual hunger (for I … More Cherry Tomato
