Writer. Demand Poet.
—
The steam chugging
Out this plastic pig’s
Ears isn’t
Natural isn’t right
A man-made atrocity
At the foot of my
Bed. What else can
Be said of this
Little piggy?
—
Will you meet me
At the end of
The day, to
Reconcile the
Pain to
Clear things up, to
Pour ourselves together
In a glass and
Melt a little?
—
I’m writing small stones as part of the … Read the rest “Clear Things – 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 … Read the rest “Sun Drops – small stone”
—
How still the house
Can be without
My son home:
I hear pages turning,
Socks sliding on
The hardwood, the
Gurgle of the baseboard
Heaters. These and also
Impatient jangling of
Nerves at once relieved,
Then shuddering with the… Read the rest “How Still – small stone”
—
how you adore the
Gloomy Bear, with his
Saucer eyes, and pink
fur. You don’t
Notice that he’s
Sadistic anime with
Blood on his
Claws. I coo
Nonchalantly and
Slowly
Close that tab.
–
I’m writing small stones … Read the rest “A Girl and Gloomy – small stone”