Saturday Night

Drove a grieving friend
to the liquor store
and admired the baptists in white.

Vacuums

She had bad dreams. Bad enough to wake her at four in the morning and leave her glazed in the direction of the clock, motionless, wondering about the grisly capacities of her subconscious.

From a Fool's Perspective

A crow stirred on the telephone wire beside the electric pole adorned with transformers. Almost at her eye level, he adjusted his wings and settled into place. She sure knew how to pick 'em. But the clouds would come down to greet the earth. And everything would be free to be its own self. Leaning on the door jam, she raised her red coffee mug in salutation, glad to have him in the neighborhood.

Dawn of the Jukebox

The clouds came down to greet the earth and she stood in the open back door, barefoot, bed-headed, and delighted. Everything would be free to be its own self again. She was wiser, but always and still a fool. Rubbing her eyes, Ursula smiled and inhaled deeply. It was good to make someone happy.

Dearest L,

There is some gawd-awful self-pitying tripe on here, so look out.
xoxo
L

That American Life

She sang, ‘In the middle of a dream I call your name. Oh Yoko!’ as she crossed an empty parking lot under the sun. Integrity plagued her at unexpected turns. Running a nail over the metal cord casing, she realized she hadn't understood it could mean different things. Like the first degree of freshness, she'd thought it also the last. Payphone pressed to her ear, she squeezed her eyes closed, held her breath and imagined the world at the other end of the line.

Run on Run on Run on Sentence

Tapped her flat-soled foot on concrete until the drums of her ears dilated her eyes and the reverb shrieked and drowned weeks of sighs and bass beat touched her organs with rich earthquakes,
gentle and deep.

Exile and a query to the cottonwoods in the backyard

Would she dream again of that alien house of her childhood, sealed like a spaceship with its white noise humming air conditioning as she drifted through the grey twilight of predawn, wrapped in an old yellow floral sheet for a kimono and of tucking her bare feet beneath her on the cool, soft sofa and fixing her eyes on some black and white precision feast of silver grains witnessing the hardships of postwar life?

Taken a Shine

I wish you'd come around!

She’d howl at the moon, all glassy-eyed through the thick bottom of that

mason jar

pouring heartbreak down her throat.