It's Still Life

Day 18: Miz Quickly’s Part 3 and PA’s Thursday prompt Genre: A Still Life with Dead Game, Fruits and Vegetables in a Market by Frans Snyders c. 1614 This is the Thursday market.It’s a voice sticky, thick and red.A still life of lifeless animals,dead birds and gluey fruit.Flies rise and settle on skeweredcorpses of feathered…

Miz Quickly’s Part 2 Cento Rework & PA’s Object Crouching in the Bedsheets (Part 2: Reworking) Winter. Time to eat fat, to fight against walls and blankets, and a tapestry of pewter mornings. Winter bleaching porcelain and sunsets, and grinning like Houdini eyes. It crouches, heroic, and rides the spaces you pass through, roadside trails…

Miz Quickly’s Cento Poem Famine Crouches in the Bedsheets Winter.Time to eat fat,to fight againstwalls and blankets.Winterfixed in a tapestry andbleaching in the sunset.Famine crouches in the horizons you ride,the space you pass through.Heroic trailsof beer bottlesand dead birds on the roadside. Winter is that cat,the colour of pewter mornings.Make it be spring, a porcelain…

The Halfway Point mid-November leaves hang gold and metal, a breathless limp of (read more …)

Burnt Toast It’s late. Very latein the afternoon whenthe sky brews hollowclouds, and air fevers hot. Thunder bites butit’s late, very latebefore the rain streakssoil brown as shade. A café, we’re undercover. Hunger calls but it’s late, very latefor a bite to eat. We kiss. A kiss of burnttoast and marmalade.We’ll wait. Wait untilit’s late.…

Just Like Yesterday Thirty nearly forty years now although odd thing, time, it seems like yesterday we arrived here from a place where it was always warm and sunlight was fluid as olive oil. We lived in the midst of an old orchard. Lemons grew in the garden. Thin-skinned oranges. Two olive trees. An avocado…

I. One More Jab Spell your name – and so I did. Date of birth – which I confirmed. Side effects, she says sore arm fever headache itchy slight shingles rash at which point I’m thinking itchy scratchy oh no don’t. Which arm, she asks. Left, I say. I sleep on my right. She says…