winter down
smoothed and unfolded
to airMonthly Archives: September 2009
winter down smoothed and unfolded to air
Posted in Haiku and Tanka Leave a comment
Alone With Her Cats
Alone with her cats Nora addresses them while she studies the telly. What rubbish! What trash! Those people! Tsk, tsk!
The cats attend Nora with equal dissatisfaction.
Before falling, Archangel Tveriel– Nora calls her Fluffermuffin– would have seared the fat from her bones. Now she thinks, there are worse hells.
Posted in x50 Micro-fiction Leave a comment
Allegory of the Wasp
Beyond the window shade, shadows
shift, shapes bend
Sting, antennae, wing veins, twitching
abdomen
I try to decide on which side
the wasp crawls
Its silhouette slips as it flips
through a hole
On the screen
the wasp draws itself
awkward linesPosted in Free Verse Leave a comment
Thrill Kill
Jack and Jill first thrilled to kill when they impaled their father.
Mum died next. As you’d expect, they swore, “Let’s see to each other.”
Jack fell down on a garden trowel, not once or twice–but thrice–while dear Jill mistook her pills, tumbling into the hereafter.
string weathered silver tone clattered cylinders
string weathered
silver tone clattered
cylindersPosted in Haiku and Tanka Leave a comment
The Book of Recursion
On weekends Otto reads. His recliner tilts back like the cradle of an astronaut prepared for liftoff. A beer bottle stands erect as a rocket on the table beside him. He blows a continuous plume of smoke as he works through the pack of cigarettes he will smoke. When hungry he microwaves a few dogs and sets a bag of chips between his legs. He carries his paperbacks with him to the bathroom and sits at length, not rushing anything. Only when Darla comes home from work does he stop. He places a finger between the pages to ask about her day. He listens patiently until Darla slips away to the coffee maker. He begins reading. –read more–
Posted in x500 Flash Fiction Leave a comment
Hungarian Dulcimer
A Hungarian dulcimer hangs above the lintel. It’s said that travelers stained by blood will produce a dour note. Such people are always welcomed with mead and sent to restful beds.
A spacious pillow awaits their heads. As always the innkeeper departs through the rear door.
His hounds sing brightly.