New app.
1. Lindsey
2.http://www.livejournal.com/community/writing_comms/
3. A couple of my personal favorites, would love critique:
The Woodsman
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He was first in the dairy
and then near the produce; groping fruit,
mostly peaches to roll
against the roots of his chin.
He said he came down the mountain
for his first supermarket. I could guess as much;
his shoes were strips of bark and his shirt was bird wings
all sewn together, up and around his neck. What graced his legs,
I did not ask, fearing it was only mud.
I took his wrist, even with their mire hats
and bonsai undergrowth, his nails
were close to claws. We snaked through the aisles
stopping for his eyes to run over every cereal box.
Each one its own little mystery, he spoke
in rhythmic breeze.
He stood behind the checkout,
volant, but unable to ensnare
those cereal box truths
I left through the sliding doors,
vowed to make the climb someday
and picked a poppy from his ear.
With it hanging from my back pocket
I made my way down the street, turning
to see him crooked with giggles
in the middle of the parking lot
Mediocrity
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I will drown until morning,
in the side-street rivers
When my neighbor’s slippers flop to the newspaper,
she will lift the classifieds and find
my teeth with acid traces, the runoff on my cheeks
looking like a smile
She will pull me around her like a shawl,
unwrapping my body at every door,
draping me across my mother at my own
before walking back to her burnt toast
My head hanging off a couch cushion
mother would strike a small fire
to run its way through the phone lines
Paramedics follow the smoke,
come and shove me into the wall
The casket rises as it falls
because that someone plucking
awkwardly through my room’s belongings
will find these journals slid
between the bed and window