What can YOU say in six sentences?
All things that begin must end, and I cling to that hope every night when the nightmares and the groaning, the slapping and throwing of my belongings begin. Please dear sweet Rosary I beg you pry the cold fingers that grip my arm every hour from my body--the cold hard fingers like chains that make me gasp and I watch people lower their eyes and walk around me like I have some kind of disease. Providence deliver me from the cold spot in my room that lies in my bed and sinks the heat from my…Continue
Peggy is an alligator. She lives in the woods. She practices in the mirror every day when her mom isn’t around, getting ready to be a world-class secretary. Peggy’s mom knows the score and wishes her dear one would practice hunting, death rolling, hissing and all the other things that make an alligator noble and strong. Peggy thinks her mom means well, but is totally square. Someday, she vows in the hot sun on her favorite stone, she will be worshipped, feared, beloved by all secretaries…Continue
christian pulled to the sound of his own song-- he pulled to the lyric of the song in his head.
his bunkmates never heard such a sound and declared he need to disavow that song, be done with its tune and make way for the chantey everyone knew.
but christian said "i know what i want, i'll say what i want, and no one can take it away..." and pulled rope equally or better than any man on that ship but it was to no avail.
they said "sing our song or be silent, be silent man,…Continue
we sat in the camper listening to the summer morning between sips of coffee. mike asked if i knew what bird that was calling, and i couldn't say because the windows and door was closed making it impossible for me to hear, and i wore the shame of it all day.
last night i was reading bellyflopped on the bed and he flipped his magazine down and turned his face to the midnight window, and asked 'you hear that?' we hear all kinds of things late at night; gunshots, neighbors fighting,…Continue
In the harbor where empty black treetops sway, their billows curled asleep for the night, the wind blows and bells clang gently. Bows rise and fall gracefully, breathing in time with the waves while men sleep soundly in their sacks and cats prowl the docks looking for remains. But Emerson does not sleep in his bed. His fingers knot a threadbare blanket, eyes scan the dark beyond his window, certain the hag’s blessing would not reach him in time. His heartbeat shudders his body as he…Continue
mist rises over damp lands and you can be sure that's where little creeks and ponds are, and the low sun will burn off the moisture long after i moor and stagnate at the desk. were my hands meant for this?
the clouds--pale ink--they are pretty distractions on the little haul to somewhere else it's so hard to be when all i want is to be is here, black keys under fingertips, telling tales with a secret smile.
so tonight i need your voice and have your voice inside where no one…Continue