-
APPARITION
In the night what I am perched on the edge of sleep you appear, just out of the dream shadows, avoiding the light, you are featureless. I call to you and I think you must be smiling but your voice is the wind through the Austrian pines and the drip from the ever shrinking icicles…
-
ERATO PREFERS LATTE
My muse sits quietly on the shelf over the counter in the Café Espresso at Barnes and Noble nestled between 12 ounce bags of Colombian Supremo and Kenya AA, in the shadow of the plant whose leaves reach out to caress her cheek. She whispers to me between notes from the guitarist performing on the…
-
COCOON
She imagines life is much like a cocoon in which she must remain or risk instant death. She does not recall coming here but know she must have done so in the not too distant past. That is the problem with cocoons, there is no memory prior to finding yourself within, but she doesn’t mind…
-
PRECISELY
On the radio this morning the DJ played the classic “In the Midnight Hour,” and I pause to reflect on the fact that midnight is a moment and cannot be an hour, by definition, since the halfway is only a point, not a range, and you cannot put a home on an hour, for…
-
ARRIVAL
Twisted strands tell a strange story – acid, a trip you never intended to take – amino pairs that walk you into a world that is yours alone and universal, a foreign place you now must call home.
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 