I am taking forever and ever to eat my yogurt. The creamy substance is something to stir and stir with my teaspoon until homogenized and then remove gently with my mouth, using no teeth, only tongue and lips. The pomegranate seeds are a bitter, crunchy counterpoint. Still, we must bear the unpalatable in order toContinue reading “Yogurt”
Category Archives: prose poetry
blue tongue
Ms. Nancy’s perfume meant homework, a big jar of glue and loose leaf scored with a ruler on the folds. Threats of adhesive in the mouth to punish a blue tongue. Crimson checks and the blunders specified with crisscross marks. Ms. Nancy’s perfume smelled like the front office and phones, notices to home and theContinue reading “blue tongue”
faces
women w/ faces barely able to contain their beauty enormous enuf to burst thru the frame of a camera
untitled
I don’t wanna open the blinds. Nothing’s out there, anyway, but the coal of a planned barbecue and a lot of big talk, a lot of banging around. Shut up, you windbag, I could say, but it wouldn’t quell the storm. In here, a firelight and numbness, suspension on a cloud. I am a duchessContinue reading “untitled”
wasted on words
Fake bonsai and ferns in aluminium buckets Here students gather by the bunch buried in books altho voices r barely audible over the club music songs Her working in a sundress Him in a cashmere shortsleeve Them in their jeans arrayed like ducks by the barista And the woman next to me her hair hungContinue reading “wasted on words”
today was like this
I’m so bored of reality Nobody does anything interesting Why do I always have to be the one to bring perspective? I am burnt out on perspective It’s time for the world to act Mister, let me see what you are thinking There’s got to be something compelling in that brain of yours What aboutContinue reading “today was like this”
something i wrote in bed on a wonderfully windy night
i don’t want to look outside, even tho it’s a nice night. i don’t wanna see the gazebo, even tho the trees there are bending in the breeze and it looks very poetic — leaves taking flight like butterflies on the eve of autumn. i don’t want to imagine him standing there messing around withContinue reading “something i wrote in bed on a wonderfully windy night”
city
this is that building where half the city lives / count all of those windows and just the one tree / out in front with just as many branches and twigs
dolls
My dolls are not gay. Ken is stiff. Midge is naked on the ledge of my dad’s sink. My mom told me not to have Tara Lynn go for Becky. My Tutti is a corkscrew. Nothing works with these heads. Tutti is still lying in my mom’s craft drawer so dad can fix it withContinue reading “dolls”
