And so, remember, I wrote this under a yellow porch light, slapping at mosquitoes, coughing up smoke from wild fires and thinking of me or you, or me.
Tag: creative
Where are my teeth?
The tooth fairy took all your teeth but I think she also has your innocence, and you never saw a dime.
Grass, Thin, Theft
Love is Molasses
Care is water
The thick and thin
of thieves.
Belief, Obese, Death
Salivating teeth taste smoke.
Souls peep morning skies through dewy windows.
Bus, Defeat, Miracle
The rain drops on the window made all the head lights look like shooting stars passing him. No one was walking the streets. Homeless were huddled at bus shelters, doorways and underneath shop overhangs.
Pilot, Hair, Wolf
Follicles salute bloody snouts. Extending past split ends, peering at red snow, hearing howling, growling and snarls.
Eye, Leader, Raccoon
I knew she was just extending a guilty hand. I looked around the yard and spotted chains and a lock on the lids of their trash cans.
Slippery, Provide, Flesh
In this dream walked a procession, four deep. They had come from the hill shaded by the Samanea Saman tree at its summit. They walked; the Cloaked Ruby leading her troupe, stretching and yawning at the sky.
Flawsome, Hangry, Tertiary
“Excuse me?” she said.
From behind me the tertiary constituent in our sad procession towards frozen dairy spoke up.
The sound of music; The Lion, the witch and the wardrobe; The inn of the sixth happiness
The cauldron would be impossibly heavy and hot to carry but she had placed the fire under a steel cart with wheels that could be locked.
