Tag: poetry
-
out of touch
never mind a kitchendisturbed or cleandulled abrasions stuck oatmeal scratching steely cut grease spots too the cloudy water is collecting in the dishpan againorder follows chaosfollows orderfollows chaosthe table belongs to the housebelongs to the bank, i payrivers fly like stars that swimrecoursing through oceanic endlessnessthe significance of their insignificancemine too, because wings.a girl without…
-
grief (or nine christmases)
a winter ripe orange use to sleep at the forgotten foot of his christmas stocking each year, mine too. my sweet boy doesn’t remember his first orange, his first christmas. not his second or third even too (i do) will he remember this one? his tenth; a bumpy round fidget ball where the firm slick…