Category: Book o’ Verse

Crow Daddy

It’s long past time we end this charade. This intricate dance designed to mask your competence at faxing. As if it’s something to be ashamed of when we both know it’s a source of strength. We should celebrate it. Our…

Those five sensations

I can taste it. Well, almost. I can sort of taste the taste of it. The soft peg-like extensions. The way they protect me from poison help me sort out those five sensations. It tastes good. So far. That safe…

night of gold bugs

Gold, polygonal shapes. Rectangular bars, hexagonal prisms, discs, truncated octahedrons with soft fuzz edges and little black legs popping off their sides. They were fighting each other in tar-crackled dirt by a roadside stop. A few feet over they were…

Sand-eyed boy

Scraped knee so tough his eyes dry up when the pants tear through and a red pearl forms only sand drifting out of his eyes. Swirling crystals enough to dust his durable stegasaurus band-aid. 0

The thing that I am after

When I transact toward an espresso my intent is to drink the liquid part. The cup and plate (and the spoon &c) would remain the shop’s property. Really, I just want to make sure no one’s upset or confused (or…

There wert a time

There wert a time, oh a long time ago, like in movie time, when you could tip someone a sketch more than they’d expect and you’d say “thank you” in a low ruffled D and they’d say “thank you,” clean…

Love words are plopping

The scariest guy in town sits on a bus bench beside his sweetie true. His prison-gym forearms coiled energy all Pop-Eye’d and snarling with frenzied shag end at knotted hands tranquill in her lap. Driving past you can hear love…

Regrets

The food inside my intestines advances like a jungle animal stalking me in small leaps three inches, five inches at a time seizing ground rumbling fixing me frightened to a point because a jungle animal doesn’t care how nice you…

Your enemy

Watching the movie of your life and there’s your enemy repositioned as the hero he’s a maverick standing center sympathetic and she digs him noble pauses and all. 0

The myth of bone

Do you believe you have bone inside you? Have you bought stock in the scam that you’re made of stone? Why not skin? Solid through? Why not dense-coiled hair to prop your fading hips? As if we have a pelvis…