She unshook and shine and shook and shushed my busy worded mind.  Paragraphs of blonde bright wheat and pretty feet in the insouciance of neverminds, hooray and how are you, I am never minding myself never, no, not yet, fine, thanks for asking and yourself.  ?  Have me in novella shapes because no novels are read for the casual cause of causerie.  ( Read more... )

He pulled his arm out of the shower, dry and sour, and his mandolin fingers, well with those he knows he's going nowhere, except where he turns the dial, west, south, down, and water, hot, and under, he'll lay, peppered in circles, well he'll cook, he'll fucking burn up, there, and what can you do, but hear him the next morning, boiled and sour, ( Read more... )

He laid what was left, from his backpack, from his life, he laid it out there, on the railroad tracks, he was tired of traveling, aimless and penniless, sick and bruised, he was tired of his dreamless sleepless nights; he wanted dreams again, he dreamt of this before but what he had really wanted all along was just to sleep, because dreaming is ( Read more... )

A streetlight is feathered in ice.  Niagara falls billows in cold clouds.  His hands in his pockets, his breath waving with comma wings through the air.  He does not follow the paragraphs of footsteps in the snow.  He makes his own.   Even the horse shoes in the river are not as eager to make an impression as him.

A lion's mane in ropes and roots, shaking his laugh through the cobwebs of marijuana hanging from the ceiling and climbing out of the lips of his friends.  We crowd in and the pipe is passed and the colors are undisturbed by my breath.  The lion is watching me curiously and telling me about the bottles of rum in his house on the east side of the ( Read more... )

The wind carried an empty dress across my road. I hit the brakes. The dress hurried its limbless self across my windshield as I stumbled to a stop. I watched the sunlight turn the transparent cloth into an aquarium of green before rolling off my car. Not sure what had just happened, my brother suggested that I may have ran over a ghost. If ( Read more... )

He stretched his arms out like a crucifix and attempted to make amends with his wife, who was centered on a park bench underneath a rainbow umbrella watching him without her curiosity intact. He told her about God, how he was being cleansed and how good it felt to be free. His arms remained out and ready, palms upturned to catch his atonement, ( Read more... )

Two nights out of harbor. The anchored expression of a man who wants nothing more than to go back home. Lonely waves wishing for company. A shipwreck on purpose, a long breast stroke to shore.

And she lolls those olive eyes round those shoulders, she makes up her fancy in fingerpaints. She has been touched in brushes, random and unaccounted for. There's been one sky over another, like layers of sheets, she has been climbing through them, she has been hoping for an opening, she has been twisting in blisters and popping her limbs until ( Read more... )

I keep seeing ghosts. They press their faces against the window and smudge it with their breaths. They throw their shadows in my hall and fall upon my bed, creak with the springs and pull down the sheets. They whisper and they yell and they dance. They put on this whole little parade but I usually sleep right through it, I'm so goddamn tired ( Read more... )