Don’t go yet, I said, because the car keys are lost. Where are you supposed to go without them? And I’m not done yet and I prefer you don’t you walk out on nights. What are you going to do, walk home? What then? Then they’ll know our story isn’t a story at all and [...]
Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category
That one Tuesday night we talked about.
Posted in poetry, tagged high school, relationships on March 22, 2010 | 4 Comments »
Past your house.
Posted in poetry, tagged chill, cold, days, ellen, guitar, loss, melody, morning, steps, summer, tea, wake up on November 9, 2009 | 3 Comments »
The morning light seeps in through now, with the time change, and I get confused when I wake up. I count them, twelve steps to the bathroom, fourteen more to the tea kettle. I lose track on the way to the balcony. Good morning sun. Seen so many places, vast empty spaces, that I adapt [...]
caught and now.
Posted in poetry, tagged time, tomorrow, yesterday on August 25, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
caught in a swell of yesterdays and tomorrows. there’s many more than one each day. we saw moments that lasted through so many yesterdays and last nights. tomorrow seems so surreal now. and that now is caught up in an always of both.
demain.
Posted in poetry, tagged demain, hier, soufflés, type writer on July 28, 2009 | 2 Comments »
Stirring.
Posted in poetry, tagged dragonflies, hammock, lake, lapse, reflection on July 21, 2009 | 2 Comments »
You are the one that takes it all away. The slow sway of the hammock between the trees, I see it and us and there I’d fight off sleep if for no other reason than to feel our weight. Down below us, far below us, worlds below us, dragonflies practice; circle, circle, circle, swoop. [...]
poets and parking lots.
Posted in poetry, tagged America, apples, cement, gas stations, motels, poems, red delicious on May 11, 2009 | 2 Comments »
I’d write poems to stacks of cement blocks outside gas stations and poems for parking lot after parking lot after parking lot, close the trunk with loaded groceries. I’d write poems for those red delicious apples, waxed up and tasteless, and poems for motel beds and airport walkways and poems for the quotidian corporate resemblance [...]
la fourchette.
Posted in poetry, tagged fork on May 8, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
If anything.
Posted in poetry, tagged bridges, café, heels, jeans, leather, light, phone, saturday, skirt, sleep, streets, wine on April 6, 2009 | 1 Comment »
It is not that it made a difference in the café or bottle of wine or changed footstep after bootstep crossing streets and bridges. It did not alter the torn jeans. It did not wear down any more the rubber heels. If anything, he saved money on phone cards and had an extra hour [...]
some quick images of paris this sunday.
Posted in places, poetry, tagged accents, bench, cigarettes, fountain, hardwood floors, luggage, metro, morning, paris, park, pigeon, rain, scooters, springtime, sun, wine on March 30, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Paris park with pigeons and fountains last night’s wine bottle tipped over under the bench. Late morning bright paris springtime sun open windows top floor ten foot shadows on hardwood. Scooters upon scooters upon scooters upon scooters upon scooters upon scooters upon scooters parked outside the Japanese restaurant. Accents down the metro stairs carrying luggage. [...]
apples and honey.
Posted in poetry, tagged apples, beard, bowl, honey, pottery, river, truffles on March 26, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
I met a man down by the river who made bowls pottery bowls with the river water and truffles too chocolate ones with the river water and they melted when you ate them, almost down your throat. i once brought him apples and honey and the honey got caught in his long long beard.
