Anxiety Dream

I wandered down Vagary Street amid colors clamorous and clandestine a melding of brights and pastels and muddy depressives, people eating, laughing, frowning, lapping tears sliding down cheeks and onto lips, salty and seasoned with sorrow. I lay down on a park bench, curled knees to chin, overwhelmed with merciless waves of fervor and the unfaltering glitter of imbroglio and fell into an exhausted stupor until the bus came hissing to a stop, a giant bloated lizard ready to snap me up like an errant fly drunk from riotous flight and into the belly of an unknowable destination…..or maybe just … Continue reading Anxiety Dream

That Moment

There’s a line on her forehead that didn’t used to be there. It’s directly between her eyebrows – her pale and almost invisible eyebrows which she always worried made her look a bit alien but not enough to paint them with pencil which looked even more alien. The line creases her forehead like the relentless drip of water creases rock, the steady passage of time that turns new to old, fresh to worn, the perky naive to the weary experienced. She considers buying some expensive wrinkle cream that promises to make lines disappear and bring forth the glow of youth … Continue reading That Moment

Avārus Covetous

I used to worry that you might die and I’d never know, that one day your face would be clean-shaven and you’d wear your shiny black shoes again a blue heron flew overhead as the taste of our lips together faded from our collective memory as surely as the moon fades with the sunrise. we threw the scarlet letters away, they rest on the bottom of the bayou, relics of times passed. _______________________ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub. Continue reading Avārus Covetous

My Brain Is Like An AK-47

It spits out memories like bullet rounds at unexpected times, short bursts of power that leave me momentarily maimed & gasping & completely unprepared for the fallout. It takes me back to a dark, dank closet with a locked door, to a room bathed in twilight and ice that still feels like my fault, to a dusty country road where I turned back when I might have escaped. My brain is like an AK-47 but isn’t that what makes us human? Taking a bullet to the gut now & then, absorbing the pain but not allowing it to kill us. Continue reading My Brain Is Like An AK-47