Little Vines 1/11/22

This week in Little Vines world.

Tuesday at the dinner table, Dad says
I think your guilty party is
the red fingernail polish she always wears

We all turn to look at Mom’s fingers. She blushes.

the cloud
it always regains its shape
but it’s not always one that you have already seen

The self-assured god with his impeccable hair-do
strays into the pop-up volcano –
Poof! Round One to the devious planet.

a boiled memory
limp and flavorless
and then she slammed the door

The vintage dishwasher coughs and falls silent.
Years of clean living are over.
Just like that.

The exotic domestic dresses worn by
the winged mannequins in the store window.
The society of silent sirens dressed to kill.

the shreds and divide them as may be done
Rake the rough with the smooth
Repair and sew it back up
into neat stripes. That’s all you can do.

why is the burner’s flame set to double?
why is the kitchen now a pile of rubble?
and why oh why isn’t she in more trouble?

a lot of advice from your uncle at the dinner table
your aunt sneaking you a look
Never mind him. There’s cake in the kitchen.

You open your mouth wide and laugh
You throw your head back
show me the flip side of your top front teeth –
I’ll never go out with you again.

Should the downstairs tooth
have to listen to the upstairs tooth
complain about having to live life upside down
all day every livelong day?

The trail adjusts
to the feet that walk it –
no, that is just not true.

a ticking clock:
with lots of exits

Well, how would you say this inconvenient corpse
came to die here in our house? Quick, Geraldine,
I’ve only got a minute before the police arrive.

The near problems block out the far problems
until the far problems get near and then
they are far problems gone near and now being
chased by new far problems. Get it?

the suffix backs away from its word
bumps into the next guy in the sentence
gets kicked back into place.
Thank goodness for spell check.

This liquor
swings with the need.
A derogatory hypocrite playing me.

The drapery fringe
objects to the extraneous pressures
of its new suburban lifestyle
which now include a chew-happy puppy

By this time tomorrow
I will be moved from one square on the game board
to some other. No other details available.

underneath the hammer
the glass shatters and so I must then tell her:
sadly no, the iced tea is all gone

I have no idea why
her quick glance at the dustbin
unsettled me so

The westbound freight train’s horn
moans a concerto
to the accompaniment of the setting sun

behind the shadow
the sunlight drifts along
not much interested

if he gets chalky in the ambulance
he’ll bite all right, said the medic
but the tidy touch of an eraser will calm him down

10 thoughts on “Little Vines 1/11/22

  1. Another splendid collection. Again the magic in your writing is how these small vignettes and snapshots are so suggestive of larger narratives. My favourite this week was the one about the cloud. I think that is a wonderful metaphor for how we can evolve while maintaining our authenticity.

    • Thank you. I enjoy looking at clouds and always have, and how they are never stay the same even for a minute, and yet they are utterly familiar all the time.

    • Thank you. I think with the gameboard one I was thinking of how things happen, events move, and so do we, and I was also thinking about how when you play a game, there is a moment when the dice is rolled, but…the move is not yet made…

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