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dVerse Haibun Monday
The bird bath is frozen, and the house stares out on a silvery fog. Crows on the hop. On the lawn. Pepper on white. Onyx on the hop. They argue. They joke. It’s a caw a caw — it’s a stabbing incantation as their beaks seek small creatures hidden in the soil, hidden like deep…
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Found dVerse
Erasure source: “The Poem of the Future” by J.R. Solonche from Invisible. “Pulvis et umbra sumus” (We are but dust and shadow.) ― Horace, “The Odes of Horace”, written for dVerse
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Twiglet #47
Running Parallel Mum has a dark edge, like sun in and out of clouds, but every story has a bit of meat. I’d know hers anywhere. In one or two of my lives, she’s been my root – roots run parallel. I look like Mum. Mum looks like her father. Same eyes. Jaw. Same frown.…
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Pantoum for Gnomes Poems
If The Wind Be a ship and her sea a moon, travelling run and drift a trimmed sail is a whirlwind, occasional dew and mist. travelling run and drift in avoidance of its fury, occasional dew and mist, is uncertainty of direction. in avoidance of its fury, sailing around a compass, is uncertainty of direction,…
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A Knee for Miz Quickly
Living on Spent Waves He raises his eyebrow slightly, and says, “or a brainless opossum. Did you know that one survives for hours after its brain is blown out, “ I shake my head, no, I didn’t know that, and could’ve gone without knowing that for a very long time. But I try to keep…
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Words for Gnomes
The 7th and 8th of May I had a friend, a fixed-face woman who wore her chiselled chin with pride of place. She rose at dawn to look for work, and when I asked her where hope would take her feet that day, she said — Anywhere there are rolling hills, singing children, and people…
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2 Easy for Miz Quickly
Got Me on My Knees He’s been arguing with himself these days. It’s all gone wrong. Been wronged. It’s a paler shade of broken, he says, while he argues with the mirror, and longs for her legs. A lost prisoner to her songs. And he falls into blond on blond dreams, begging Layla, you’ve got…
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Easy for Miz Quickly
Finished It’s some kind of dark joke — machines gone mad. Debussy playing on the radio and Peggy Lee singing … “Fever” on my ipad. Debussy finishes before Peggy. Men usually do. Miz Quickly’s “Easy“
It's Still Life 