Where did the way go taking with it my fine steel? I used to I could cut you a picture of a kiss with my words and a little dancing town with my lines. I knew who I wanted to be and didn’t keep track of the bodies. Now I just wrote that sentence like …
Category Archives: Poetry
10 o’clock on a Monday
I tried to find a song today didn’t know the name or artist of it just needed to hit the spot bring me down to the llano something in it about a hundred phones ringing. One of them was calling for you. Clicked through the emo junk painted blue fingernail crap crude mascara painted tears …
Eat N Run
Eat N Run Orange haired potato sack tricepped bullhorn mouthed Keeper of the cafe con leche. She calls for hellfire on the skinny Brazilian who trundles over to make the toast (with or without cheese) (provolone, Swiss, or American) She rolls her eyes at him frowns her head at the cameras hanging from the ceiling …
Between the Boards
I crawled under the deck today belly up unblue wood underneath looking for the fount of wasps and I discovered a party in a corner buzzing too big for the holes in their nest. Belly against wood dirt in my hair and crack something with wings setting on my left shin the women hiding inside …
Assignment
You die in your sleep. Mid dream. Write a poem or short story where your entrance to the afterlife is dreamlike. Do not use the words dream, dead, cloud, or cold. You MUST use nuts, cargo, lightness, and pill. Call on the Black Lagoon, if you must. Due June 26th. Fool… nuts… Listening to: Famous …
The Devil is in the Details-writing assignment
There’s an old story goes like this: The Devil, so old and long, so hated and reviled, often chose to forget parts of his life so he could experience things anew. Once upon the Devil’s forgotten memories, he fell in love with a woman from the day she was born. He saw her grown in …
Continue reading “The Devil is in the Details-writing assignment”
Someone I know Died in Coho Square
The assignment was to write a poem using this picture as inspiration. I was instructed to avoid use of the word: umbrella. This was tough. In the end, I don’t think the poem sounds natural, though I like the idea I came up with for the story of the thing. Here’s the poem I wrote: …