Daily Prompt

Sentimental Man

RB was always saying he taught his daughter to sing out “Bird” when he asked her who was the greatest musician ever had lived, playing records to prove it. RB would make tapes of Chick Webb or Oscar Pettiford, all the greats who died young, before RB’s age which was 40, give them to everyone

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This Cruise, These Boys

This cruise we were promised boxers: vascular and hungry for victory. These boys would stop at nothing, we were told. The prize was a golden belt marked CHAMPION in genuine rhinestones. When we were awakened and had drinks from a tray, shuffled down staircases to the hold, the newly installed boxing ring, we paid attention

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The Window, The Sea

the window is the window the glass, the same the wall, the same the same old house   looks out on the sea, never the same, not for a moment neither the air nor the water.   when I close my eyes to look out the window the sea takes everything: my lungs, my hair,

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Canvas Tool Kit

  my grandfather rode up on his motorcycle and tossed me a wrapped canvas toolkit in my dream. Greasy wrenches screwdrivers so old  the walnut handles looked like rocks.   He knew I was in trouble had been a long time all my old friends had turned against  me for reasons of their own and I had

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Spun Sugar

Your good mood will you mind if it doesn’t last forever? When you get laughing you must know   it all has to end sometime   spun sugar stays fluffy only as long as it stays dry but sooner or later you find out it’s a rainy climate   The Daily Post

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Fence Line

The matted grass so dense the fencepost I hammer rings jerking from the peen, waving like a stormborne mast until at last it punches through the clang turned to thud soft and unresisting wounding the hillside Weak now, my hands ache as I stretch them in their rotten gloves twisted and black like river trees

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Obvious

It is the obvious thing we find may never be understood, a phantom limb that begs to bear weight The last place we look is where we find it. Only a fool would keep looking, then. A bed showing the shape of sleeper is unmade, sloppy. The pea under the mattress is a thing you

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Jamais Vu, Presque Vu

Jamais vu, never seen an odd impression that you see a common thing you’ve seen a thousand times for the first time the face of a relative, say or the face in the mirror But the mirror doesn’t count, does it? Nobody but you knows what that looks like, backwards, with your best expression frozen

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Quietus

That you said once over eggs the same bird   neither blind nor striking disappointed us all   Yet again here I mourn debt’s sorrow:   an occupant pressed into proper silence   whey veins curled in sheets await the occasion   yearned to be pinned by anything at all     The Daily Post:

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Leopard Circus

The tiger is  a leopard with painted stripes applied while he sleeps he never wonders about these new markings so like the shadows of the bars of his cage where keepers feed him more than he can ever eat, the stench of the rotting carrion assumed to come from him When told the tricks a tiger

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