Practicing numbers,
he watches her smoke. She stares
at nothing: Not him,
not the passing red mustang.
I’m not (one, two) he thinks (three)
thinking about her.
A breeze blows blue smoke through red
hair. He blinks and folds
his laundry (four, five) slowly,
then walks right out of her life.
He stood accused of arresting an insight. But no, he objected, he’d only plucked it, lightly, with two slim fingers and, for barely a semi-quaver, held it up to the light. Then…
In the gathering of fertility laughter ricochets off the photo frame. I smell the smoke but can’t see the fire. Watch dogs rotate through the broken fences, where “wildlife-y” rocks listen to…
I wish I were off to another world Where my destiny would be unfurled. Could I become a brilliant spell caster? Or only learn to fly faster? Perhaps I could board a…
A new year passed. My gay friend with the glass eye received, just today, his insurance settlement. And me. A complexity thwarting mine, I’ve knuckled down to my bereavement. God have mercy,…