Tag: ordinary

Area Attractions


Google can you spare me a
A chance encounter with
Life? I keep wandering around
Your innards, picking at
Scabs and chewing on old
Gum stuck under old
Search results somehow unable to
Recall what I came here for in the
First place. And, also, no thank you
Bing.

Once I used a thing called a
Guide, which was a book, written by
A person who’d put foot into
Cow shit at a summer fair and
Ate stale sandwiches from a
Museum cafe. And converted then condensed those
Memories into hard-cold paragraphs of nothing and
Symbols you’d flip a key to read.
So what’s the diff, google user? Shouldn’t I just
Succumb to your 4 stars?

Decide, my distant youth calls to me,
The pack getting heavy on her back.
But I have wandered off into
Webbed inertia. What area attractions appeal
To me I cannot say. I can only hear the
Noise of newsless news, the screech of
Baseless fears, and
A death rattle inside
Perfect tasting love minutes
Wasting away.

furnace rumble – small stone

our furnace, remade like
Madonna, oil to gas (and just as
huge), shakes the house
around her so
thrilling
that
every year we
do a white heat dance
she’s still kicking

– part of the 2013 Mindful Writing Challenge on “Writing Our Way Home”

my body whispering- small stone


my knee is swollen
twice normal. A week busy
taking care of
everyone else and
poo-pooing,
don’t hear
my body whispering.
Now, it being Sunday, the
relentless ache
turns me into
an exhausted heap of
terror.

Sun Drops – small stone

late sun drops low
over the reservoir
one circle of light among

the dozen headlamps
already licking the
new english road.

I want to stop. The single
goose on a high rock island
wants me to stop.

the soft black top gravel
shoulder is wide but I’m
past before I know it.

sun there and gone, behind that
remnant wood; the rock wall
slumps, goose replaced
by a shattered pine tree.

Cancelled – small stone

Everyday a pile of
Useless mortgage and
Credit offers land inside
That bronze and rusted
Mailbox I want to replace.

Except, when, like a
Semicolon, the stream of
Marketing unconsciousness
Is interrupted by a

A cancelled stamp and
My name scrawled in
Wild Sharpie ink:
A handwritten letter from you.

I’m writing small stones as part of the January Mindful Writing Challenge. Please feel free to comment! And come read more on small stones on Twitter.

 

Harness – small stone


I fly by you
On the way to pickup.

On a stranger’s
Lawn, you assemble yourself
Into a web of
Neon yellow straps–

The harness to
Hold you here on this earth,
Up there,
In the arms of
One phlegmatic tree.

I’m writing small stones as part of the January Mindful Writing Challenge. Feel free to join us.