The pavement is dyed with sunset colors and tiny spatters of sweat.

His boots slam down one after the other as he keeps his knees high. The necessary breathing pattern is second nature by now, and he focuses only on consistency. He has tried running with speed in mind, but that only tires him faster. He prefers to be sure and steady, all firm ( Read more... )

Today my mom told me that one of my great-aunt’s twin sons has died. He was severely autistic, as is his brother, who probably doesn’t have very long to live. I never met them, so I couldn’t be properly sad. They were in foster care until their caretaker became too old to keep it up. Their other brother had to make the decision to pull the plug. ( Read more... )

And ma’am stands in the center ring, enveloped by scorched earth and asinine love and the ineffable rollicking, roaring, burning crowd and just

Laughs.

But I do not write poetry.

I just fill the blank page with pretty words and give it a clever title.

The poetry, if it so chooses,

(It never does. This isn’t poetry, you see. You’ll tell me it’s ( Read more... )