she spoke in cursive.
speaking softly. word to word.
she spoke in riddle.
he said, “she’s a Gemini.”
I’m a Cancerous old man.
Tag Archives: words of birds
Tiger
prose or poems.
o’holy find love!
move toward a goal.
what was that she said?
stop now.
maybe not.
continue.
rejoice.
drugs. drugs. drugs.
stop now.
what did I say to you?
I miss the mother and son who sat behind me, my seatmate, the comfort.
No one makes noise from Roc to Cuse. The Lady who took my seat eats
crackers quietly and rubs her finger tips in the aisle. She flips vanity fair reading
the ads and plows another cracker into her beaked face.
15 minutes till noon, when I’ll allow myself to start drinking the booze I brought along in my bag.
9-10 more hours until Boston. I bought the ticket, I’ll take the ride.
she refuses to
hold conversation. I hope
they sell bottled wine.
All stops went quick, hoping to get into Boston early. Slept from Albany to Schenectady.
Too many hits of tequila in the bathroom. Just left Springfield, headed toward Wooster.
Had noodles and coffee to burn off some liquor. Both were terrible.
Dinner lady, forty something, black and from Chicago.
Hope to find a sandwich shop in Portsmouth and a good coffee and maybe flowers.
I want time to sit and enjoy a Marlboro.
Filed under sangretti
I’ll sleep tonight and wake to her serious morning face of deep, blonde haired concentration
“dropping words like bombs,” that’s a classic cliche,
no, we’re tying meaning to verbs and forgetting
structure.
prose works best in conversation,
spontaneous if under the right influence.
the last thing on my to-do list was “write”,
the five things above it were “find a job”.
He’d say things like “groovy” and make me tell him what I’ve been up to
when all I wanted to know was the things he’d done in his life.
I saw him once in a suit, and he told me it would be the only time.
about 6’2″, or so, dark short hair, quick on the go but carefully slow,
I think of stopping over every time I pass his home.
I left for a day but came back the next morning,
a futon wasn’t going to cut it.
one step at a time, bud.
I know a girl who’ll travel 400 miles to see me,
and I’ve done the same. who told me I was her best friend,
and I’m beginning to think the same. She said to me once,
“you can stay home and write all day and I’ll go to work, that’ll
work just fine.” But I guess that’s the thing
with myth – you never know when it’s true.
I started this bit two years ago,
I’ll try again in another two.
Filed under sangretti
These Lines are a Poem of Single Line Poems (and notes)
For a week, I’ve dreamed the phrase “my teeth fell out, like ivory typewriter keys,” waking and throwing my numb limbs at my face frantically searching and frantically finding.
what a relief
I think listening to He Has Left Us Alone but Shafts of Light Sometimes Grace the Corner of Our Rooms doesn’t make you a better anything, just maybe appreciative.
Don’t repeat lines I’ve said to you, trying to get me back on board the ship.
About Me: I’m not the biggest fan of dreadlocks or hula hooping.
Should I keep a notebook for this or just try and remember them?
Step One: Proving the Power of Myth – Establishing Your Very Own Myth.
He said, “well, ya really gotta get yourself published.” I said, “Oh?” Pretending like that was news.
And on the second day, we met Mountain, his sister Moon and brother Sun.
Everyone’s walking by like they actually have someplace to go.
I’ll write a longer one sooner or later.
“Life is a pity. Close the book, go on.”
I’m pretending.
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Filed under sangretti
Haiku: 32
complex decisions.
I just want to take you there,
we can watch the birds.
Filed under sangretti
Haiku: 31
robins watch from trees.
I’m watching from my window.
tomorrow, we’ll switch.
Haiku: 30
wake up, get coffee,
put on the game show network,
wait for her reply.
Guest Check Poetry: 233679
His face grew cold, his bones were old.
His story was timeless, it deserved to be told.
Sit with him, pray to God – “Wait.
Let him gather his memories, from each a lesson can be made.”
Say “Goodbye” – for a first, for a last,
Try and blame time, who took a hero too fast.
Laying outside, in the light of the moon.
I still see him in starts that explode too soon.
Words Of Birds 