-Word Choice and Meaning-
She said he had an infectious smile as if the take-over were the only importance. Sure, we all turned up our maws, but did we fester? Invade? Did we swell and pustulate? I wonder if he really had a six courses antibiotics smile. I don’t tell her how leavened bread might not corrode her face. It wouldn’t hurt to have a jingle you hum to the widening fog while washing the dishes smile. He might be more worth her while if his grin was a chocolate craving. You could say his simpers open a six pack and put briquets on the grill. It’s the headwaters of a spring burbling away a swelter in August. Or simply a woosh. But she has already moved on to jumping about pancakes and hair follicles. The infectious smile creepnumbing my heels for amputation. +10 Share...
Read More-Community-
These doughnuts are spelled with an “ugh!” and were mine. But they are are pinkening Sara’s fingers, and I suspect the cinnamon twist of Ben-shaped treason. Last Tuesday, dishes began their own grazing and I’m pretty sure it is not my turn to wrangle them from pasture. I do not know how oregano sprouted from our ceiling. In a few weeks, when it hangs low enough, I will ask if it belongs to anyone. Then clip some for eggs. The best is when we’re all postured as if we had a sofa. Legs comfortably skewing. Our palms taking charcoal rubbings of the carpet. Overstiff elbows. Once Ben had the idea that all windowsills were Baptist Preachers…the first steps toward the light. Sara said he was transcendental. And I just swallowed my bagel where it sponged...
Read More-Vernal Picket Line Shenanigans-
Watercoolers had a protest today filibustering my spring windowfiction. Rubbermaid stole the megaphone and made loud chillhood memories so I couldn’t hear the breeze. It seems plant sex was too risqué. Pollen a bill before its time. I had just dusted off Robert’s Rules of Shorts Wearing. And we are annealed. I can barely remember being molten and anyshape. Ready to pour. I had printed leaflets, ready to drop their flowers and sway in the trees. Somewhere across the street I could see you mouthing: Fibrous and flint for picnics! But I am awful at lip reading, and cold fronts kept blocking my line of sight. At any rate, we wanted out of there. Together we could bloom radiators. Stretch out our metal coils and convect. 00 Be the 1st to vote.Share...
Read More-A Love Poem-
Think about your armpits. Now stop. Why did I say that? Now there are hairy damps. Finger vices. Bristling. Like a car accident. The shatter. Squirm metal, and now we turn. Just above your elbow a cockroach. Everyone slows because viscera slices are neckworthy. We can puncture. Or fold what skin should flatten. And don’t mention toes. Now, we need to talk. It’s about you, I mean, it’s about protruding. I didn’t mean to laugh. But under the wax paper, just where your tail bone rubs; there is prowess. Someone hangs pimples in their living room just above a black leather recliner. When the sun hits it, your ankles move. 00 Be the 1st to vote.Share...
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