This week’s assortment!
the depletion of the ink in my pen
I wonder – all those words I have written with it –
where are they now?
The glass sapphire was set
on a band of almost-silver.
That cheap ring lasted our entire marriage.
in our searching for that woman
the mist of money surrounding her
made the job harder than it needed to be
Just talk it out
you said. What you meant was:
How much do you remember?
she was a fine friend
and she wasn’t afraid
of what a bag of croissants would do to her figure
For all we know we
reconfigure vicious and
we could end up with viscous.
Do we really want to mess with it?
Venus Arboreal was her name:
dangerously elegant she was
for a gray squirrel.
once you embrace annoyed
settle into seethe – suddenly
it’s easy to find your way to incandescent rage
With a sideways glance of brightly malicious
the circular saw buzzed once.
Your finger fell to the floor
the utter quiet
of the saltwater sparkles
flickering over her last known position
in the quiet
scratches away at the earth overhead
the fellows snoring
in the back of the classroom
the thwarted hopes
they don’t even know they have
skilled at deception
the landscape dreamed under the sun
it drew you forward
and threw you off the rusting bridge
The hand moved: the hostile razor
slashed yet again the sensitive skin
the fresh paint overrun the frame on to glass
torn away in a long lingering strip
kind intentions flail
on a clear sunny day when no one believed
they were needed
haute couture drama queen
sleek in charcoal blue
takes a dainty bite of
the oozing fried egg on her plate
back when things were
still going to be fine, just fine?
The wizard’s potion splashes the purple velvet curtain
the hovering girl vanishes. I think
when she gets back from this latest jaunt
she might have to get her costume dry-cleaned
the baby looks cute in her bathing suit
frivolous in yellow and joyful she laughs
It breaks my heart. I bewilder her with my tears.
this quiet piranha of a table fork
found its way into the blow-up baby pool
and blew out the sides. No regrets.
my grandmother’s assumptions
the kind of person I happen to be
7 thoughts on “Little Vines 6/28/21”
I absolutely love the phrase “quiet piranha of a table fork” and I also think there needs to be a children’s picture book about the adventures of Venus Arboreal.
Oh dear, a squirrel, I need to find someone who likes squirrels to do this book. But I think you could do a fantastic illustration/portrait of her. Just saying.
The first one…and the baby! (K)
You do the best job with the smallest amount of words of anyone I know.
Thank you. I enjoy the process of distilling a thought or feeling down to the essentials.
Many people try. Few succeed. You do.
Thank you. You made my day.
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