Tag: Books

Early Chill

The sun is dull today, grey clouds and a cold, cold rain. Thrushes scatter from tree to tree…scolding me. Witch hazel fades to orange, then red. Oak leaves are starved skeletons and thistles appear as brittle, brown tubes. The spring with its wild water,…

Lost City

The streets have no direction, no destination. They wind back into themselves, while they take her… somewhere… she’s never been. She looks at a map of the city, it would appear to be simple, small, within a defined space. On the streets is a…

The Walk

She walks the old road, its surface malleable, as dirt reclaims its path. Once a smoothness exited, now gone, curves vanishing, the wind, indeterminant. Her bones feel like prisms, sharp angles, poking out of moving flesh, legs move with assuredness, tenderness. The road has soft…

Mary Shelley

Remnants of the past…embedded. Curled inside chalky lava flows Stuck to a shape…ripples in stone. Only elements change its appearance.   I and everything wait for the rain. The parched flowers and grasses Fragile skin, stalks, browns and beiges. Bloomed full, so easily, last…

Words

Sometimes I feel like murdering them, squashing them under my feet, watching letters bleed out, separated from the word they are attached to. Other times, I place them in an incubator, checking in on them from time to time. Some go in a special…

Been Leaving Ever Since

There used to be a couple. Bud, Miller. Pissy, yellow stuff with names of factory workers and truck drivers. Now, flavors flourish like house cats, calico, Siamese, tabby. He loves tabs. Drunk on credit. Purrrrrrr. That’s something to be proud of. More important than…

Enclosed

Hawthorne Street, Portland Oregon, April 2019. Click on image to enlarge. More images can be found here.    

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