Revisionist History Strange Fact: The Declaration of Independence was first written on hemp paper. Of all the archaic, false truths preserved within star spangled, marbled museums of mythology, only one is held to be most self-evident: that the hand which held the pen that penned perfect ideas from within a flawed forefather’s soul and onto … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 29 (inspired by Plath’s “Elm”)
Spring I have suffered the atrocity of morning on an weekend that was supposed to be void of work; empty of responsibilities. My arms have groped the dull grey flannel remnants of night, searching in vain for an off switch for the daylight. I have been nudged from retreating dreams by the uninvited intrusion of … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 28 (prose poem)
A Postcard from Limbo Greetings from the circle of sunless shores and cloudless climes. Please know that we are not enjoying our stay here in this epic land that knows no time. This is the place of deep ennui and echoing sighs. This is the country of muted light and steel grey skies. Here there … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 27 (3 Haiku)
i. Morning lake; white fog hovers above mirrored sky; ducks swim in stillness. ii. Green buds on still, brown tree limbs set against blue sky: The colors of Spring. iii. April rain outburst pink petals cover sidewalks carpet of flowers.
NaPoWriMo: 26
Sumatra The taste of sound roasted varnished beans falling from bag to grinder like waves eroding intertidal rocks; the feeling of smell crushed aroma between the cool, clockwise weight of slate painted porcelain; the color of brewing volcanic pebble-sized darkness filtered into crimped white starkness; the sound of water steaming flood hissing onto paper pools … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 25
The Surgeon General’s Label for Introverts Warning: Do not assume because the demands of their occupation require verbal communication that they freely desire diving into a lukewarm pool of conversation with you; they don’t. They only swim for salary. Do not approach with wide arms for hugs or palms raised and itching for hand slapping … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 24 (an elegy)
Tense It was a January, and it was the typical Ohio month that bit with bared teeth, winter that became colder with a sudden ringing a phone call bearing news of him becoming sudden a blinking, a beckoning homeward, an expectation of things to be dealt with: arrangements arranged, papers signed, hands shook, hugs given … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 23
Third-person “There He is.” “YOU ask him.” Their words the loudest of whispers fall from agape mouths the sound of silverware hitting a kitchen floor clear, distinct, ringing, talking at me in third- person, as if I am not less than three feet away occupying 75 inches the air above them as though I am … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 22
13:00 Maybe The inner workings are off; years of non-stop tick-ticking have cause the clockwork sticking of wheels; the eroding of cogs the slipping of chimes, the unlucky tolling of an extra hour. Maybe It’s human error; someone hired who never learned to count to twelve; someone who was too absent-minded or too distracted; perhaps … Continue reading
NaPoWriMo: 21
Narcissé At an accidental nexus of diffused sunlight and flickering florescence, a reflection and her full-length girl gaze upon each other, twin lotuses floating in serenity above the slime of a still mirror lake– each standing, admiring the Hellenistic drama of their pose the S-curved folds of their clothes and the not too thick, not … Continue reading
