Poetry

The Malevolence of Everyday Objects

It starts when you ascend the stairs, drop your keys square on your foot kick out and send them rattle-clang smack down the three flights your arms full of groceries, you lose it as the bottom of the sack packed by that lazy pit-faced troglodyte at the Shop-n-Sav gives way when the freezer spinach plastic

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Gone Like a Train

Soft words about how she’s waiting only made it worse. As though her going never counted for shit as though it was only a step in a direction. Why’d they say that I want to know the part about her waiting was just to get me to stop crying, but I think about it now

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Things Take Time

She swore the trench knife she carried in her purse saved her life hitchhiking home. She weighed maybe eighty pounds dirty tight clothes that dared anyone to say shit took the dirty spoon from my dried-up cereal bowl wiped it on her leg tapped out a pile of yellow powder from a film can water

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Whitey’s Ford

Whitey give the pieces of the Ford wrong names but he knew them by sight by feel, hefting every damned one in a greasy hand folks said he was crazy when he’d slither under her amongst the dirt and spiders spending hours and didn’t say much mostly just whistled through his teeth. It took forever

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my horrible face

my horrible face leers to suit my stagger seems to know all the particulars seen from the side my horrible face looks noble and heroic, especially while lying so approach my horrible face with caution   The Daily Post

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Shell Game

a shell and a shell and a shell all you can do is guess guess right, once it’s all over but you don’t ever guess right do you and all you do is guess who’s waiting who’s coming who’s left The Daily Post: Peek

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The Window, The Sea

the window is the window: the glass, the same the wall, the same the same  house the same sea, never the same, not for a moment not the air, nor the water. when I close my eyes to the window’s glow the sea takes everything: my lungs, my hair, my hands on the table the

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Those Who Wronged You

  You mere scarecrow again and again in my youth You, bully, your shotgun in my face I found a way to back down, with grace Oh you wise men said this as such would happen again and again, a safe bet and you bet on it and the bookie called all the clever fellows

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A Walk Among The Bones

The museum is climate controlled with inch-thick glass between the dioramas and me.This hushes the history. Sobers all the miniature people frozen in time, hand-painted. A birds-eye view, I observe the modeled activity, the huts, the plains. Look: the hunters have killed a deer. I cannot see the women waiting inside the smoky hut, the

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A Painless Way to See Ourselves

This man, if man he was a devil we were insulted when he finished his painting of evil deeds, attributed. Corpses piled like firewood bodies hacked to bits burned to cinders their dead mouths in open rebuke His certain voice explained it was only a puzzle. Oh, how we hated him We surged and gnashed

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