July 7th
the face of a rose deflates
our windowsill-
not much of a garden.
July 8th
after the party-
a painting is crooked
I think someone danced too close to it.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
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Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...
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stuck-wallpaper, tickled, matted-madness, in the morning before matinee wallflowers at school dances just want to be asked. ask them. they...
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sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
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strange tree, your flowers look like badminton birdies.
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I took a week off from writing this lovely, to take a bite out of a creamy, syrupy, delicious chunk of my memoir. I have begun to tackle the...
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This week has allowed me to get back in the swing of things to use a cliche that I adore. This particular cliche allows me to be vague with ...
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Though it hasn't been months since I have written and attempted edits within my memoir, it has been quite some time since I have reflect...
Poets United Contributor
I like that both stones are about the after effect of life - which, of course, is still life. Very good - Moskoreena
ReplyDeleteThanks, man! awesome comments as always.
ReplyDeleteAh ... very nice !
ReplyDeleteVery nice indeed. Small stones were once mountains...nicely chiseled images.
ReplyDelete