This week’s selection.
you discreetly correct my math
you always focus on my non-embarrassing moments
I could not ask for a better sister.
an inhibiting vocabulary
stymies the household’s creativity
AKA Mom says No
As the cable car fell to the valley floor
all I could think was
what was the name of that pastry she was so good at making?
oh my goodness you talk so tight red
your raspy laugh lands so heavy bright
I light mild then flicker white
My heart flings itself out of sight
in another twenty years at her neighbor’s wedding
she will sneeze
causing the happy couple’s eventual divorce
but today, she’s just a second-grader with a runny nose
The first room to the left
The perfect doughnut on a plate
Your office, 8 AM, Tuesday.
in a yellow notebook –
I feel queasy at the sight.
knocked at the kitchen door thought you might
like some company didn’t realize you’d just be
finishing up the murder of your brother-in-law
Sorry. I’ll stop by tomorrow.
plotted on that graph is it six or seven or
Eight wait wait wait or
Nine oh no no nooooo
the purple liquid
spattering our umbrellas
Item 317, I thought,
in the run-up to the apocalypse
heard on the bus:
they never got along
and he’s running out of time
to make things even worse
the last three nights
the designer of my nightmares
must have been off work. I’ve slept like a baby.
Age 40, wearing a heavy coat and thick gloves
Nevertheless he felt his blood congeal
at the mere sight of his dentist walking down the street
I need more time to decorate the cake
I need more time to peel this orange
I need more time to play the guitar
I need more time
Sometimes I thought she was
just a collection of
carefully machined metal parts
The big clock ticks
a cool voice in the silent room:
choose one forget the others
above the chalkboard
the clock has stopped
but the professor drones on and on
drained of energy
he knew it was time to admit to his mistake
of course there’s something to these rumors
so loose so flimsy so outrageous crazy and
so many times shared and shared and shared
the stuttering radar sweep
across the dusty plains
the ghosts evade it but make no mistake –
they are there
The snail moves slowly
and follows a wavering line.
Truth is elusive.
5 thoughts on “Little Vines 12/7/21”
Truth is elusive, but not as elusive as time. (K )
Too many favorites to list any. Wonderful to read, Claudia.
Plenty of good stories in here.
Thank you. I sometimes think, this is a tiny three line novel I have just written (so much easier than the bigger kind, right?)
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