Two Cakes a Wrapper
ramen noodles require a microwave
you steal twinkies instead,
thinking how lil’ debbie wants
to
insinuate
that you are a ding dong,
a ho ho,
or a molten, indigestible square of the Devil
On the Lanai
Black Lives Matter. And we have to share that truth so that it is our truth. Not a truth caked over by Whiteness, that veneer…
Little Noises
I don’t know that they like me very much and today was a bad day with no you in it and me just bobbing about after getting cracked up against the fact that you can call it a new start all you want, but if you still have the old poison in the barrel…it’s going to be hard to pull out a good apple.
And the Sun Burns Into Your Eyes
Those hopes to exist without risk, without presence or engagement, or bearing the weight of being the object in the lesson, they’re actually as unhelpful as a bathing suit in a blizzard. Because this isn’t that kind of life. As painful as the change thus far has been, it is not even the beginning of it.
Vein
This is my monster finding its port, this is the siphoning, the spinning that brings revelation.
Out of Numbers
In metaphor, good metaphor, you always find a little bit of truth. We say a lot of bullshit, but we wouldn’t say it if we didn’t want you to hear all the little words beneath it. These are the first words we learned. With no extraneous syllables to muddle it up. Me. You. Love. Hurt. Loss. Stop.
Scaw-tch-ka!
I made my own meaning in the absent man dreaming himself to his lover, surprising her with a kiss.
Italian Ink Tycoon
I don’t exactly know what I was thinking. I am flying across the ocean, over thousands and thousands of miles of salty, brackish waters of…
If I Knew You From Adam
You can look at these men who say they don’t care about reading, they’re real big on weed, sea and otherwise, and exploring moon caves on their jet-powered mountain bikes…men who want to put a slug of coffee in you while they size you up and hurry back to the primordial ooze in case Botticelli picks them out a good one.
Excalibur
It was too early in the morning for many cars to pass her as she stumbled forward on the small 2-lane road that smelled as though it were Northern. Her nose had not always been better for dodging blows than differentiating the delicate blooms, tasting the terroir between wines, but for now, all she knew was this idea of North of before. Of colder than Then. Of the phone call she had to make now that she was utterly and completely exhausted of all other resources.