Monthly Archives: November 2015


She painted her balloons
Over and again,
Filling the shapes on canvas
With brilliance in color,

Decorating the landscape
With intricacies
Matching her whimsy.

She laid oil to linen.
She watched and waited
For her tiny, rotund visions to levitate,
Flying off the easel entirely.

And I replied,
“Oh, Honey,
Hasn’t anyone ever lied to you before?”

The Judge

In the distance
A dog barks.

She is pulled towards consciousness,
Rising from a fitful sleep
With perspiration
Veiling her clammy skin.
The night was hard
And the adversaries she fought

Were neither visible nor tangible yet.

Echoes pound
Within her ears.

The animal
Is persistent.


Shadows fill
Deep valleys
Along the curve of her spine,
Running forth down her back,
Without light,
Like the steady nighttime currents
in a riverbed.


I deposit my affections
Like the silver of a coin,
Cranking the dial clockwise,
Happy to be passing time,
Strung up in all the
Anticipation and excitement but
Your words
Brittle, hollow, lacking,
Like unrewarding, stale
treats from this gumball machine.


She screamed and retched,
Then peeled her skin back
and touched her truth.


My eyes,
Like the world,
Are wide and burning bright.

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