Drowning in work generally... but mostly for my programming class. C The scythe swings ‘round. + My grave is marked. + Behold – The overloaded operator!
T. made me a paperclip braceletwhen we were sixteen.I store it in a glass jarwith other bric-a-brac:welded metal, dead coral,a rubber hamburgerthe size of a thumbnail. People who don’t know hernowadays whitewash her “L.”but my pretty child sitspreserved in color on my deskand she pinches my wristlest I forgethow whimsical the world once was,albeit barbed.... Continue Reading →
Need to flesh this out more. I look out the windowat empty highway of my body,at the specters of our children –too lost to die on roadsshriveled from disuse.I crumple atlases, swallow themfor their ink;old medicine that stains me.I am told this is progress.
Life's greatest small pleasure: that first breath after finishing an assignment. A deep breath. Silence. Eleven-hour workday. Sunday, my weekend.
Expo. Expositiondespite your formulaiccomplaints and agnosticism. Typo: wipe and rewrite.The black curve of a handmarking its promise – first blurred then focusedon the transparent.
*if/when he ever reads this. Jeff - don't ruin the fun by telling him. Shh. Off-prompt today. Thought I would pair yesterday's break-up piece with a love poem consisting of others' lyrics. These songs are all on a playlist I made for my husband when we just started dating. At the end of the poem,... Continue Reading →
Since Smokeshow is dropping their sophomore album on Monday (!!!), I thought I would model this piece on inarguably the world's best break-up song - and my favorite off their debut - The Shining. The meter is way, way off; I tried to follow Ellie's rhyme scheme to the best(?) of my abilities. Also, I... Continue Reading →
NaPoWriMo #14: Imitation, flattery, yadda yadda yadda... The bare bones, sap-stained,clack in the mouthwith their alliterative ambrosia. The teething child sucks at the marrow,cries baldly, and how,fat tears from her moony eyes. She knows these old boneslolling on her tongue,imparting their whiteness – their liveliness and readinessa gift from the grave, thatclacking rattle lodged in... Continue Reading →
When I went to college,she would loot my closet forthe dresses deserving of morethan half a dorm room recess, than new necklines of beer and stain. I warned her not to touch them;she wore them anyway,my Phi Beta Kappa betrayer,NSF-fellow nihilist, only unsuccessfulat playing the fool. When she went to college,no one was left to... Continue Reading →
The candle of rebirth has been lit,primordial fear sunk red but low.One novena more for the oncologist:the candle of rebirth has been lit.Sing praise to your radiation therapists:one more week ‘til quelled this persistent foe.The candle of rebirth has been lit,primordial fear sunk red but low.