Gallery
Literature
Bluefin Tuna
Bitter friend, pour me the sound of mountains
climbing under the waves like spreading gills.
These fingers lift
To the ones left behind
To the ones silent
To the ones hunted and cradled
up and out of the grass green waters
in gentle nets: I say, you do not surprise me
knocking the waves and wood with sullen flank.
You are not unfamiliar, in your blue slip,
in this dust of droplets, salting
first the dry dock, then the ice.
All
134 deviations
Literature
Bluefin Tuna
Bitter friend, pour me the sound of mountains
climbing under the waves like spreading gills.
These fingers lift
To the ones left behind
To the ones silent
To the ones hunted and cradled
up and out of the grass green waters
in gentle nets: I say, you do not surprise me
knocking the waves and wood with sullen flank.
You are not unfamiliar, in your blue slip,
in this dust of droplets, salting
first the dry dock, then the ice.
Featured
57 deviations
Literature
Funeral
I
No, and not in the maw, nor eyes,
nor in the gutted wheels on pavement -
I was no escape, no stillness, there,
where table-lamp dust lit up your name.
II
Three years into spring and I still see you,
soap foam on the sink sides,
three pears rotting into ceramic,
the beers, the blanket dome on pillows -
glass windows and a winter at home.
III
In broken ridges of the mountain's back,
and under blaze-white stitching on the ice,
the fingers writhe and grimed nails track
the splintered freeze and belly of the muck -
ice roofing on the puddles crack -
boards creak, once, twice,
and settle in the hole beneath the plaque.
Worth the reread
9 deviations
Literature
When sadness leaves
Sadness left me, turned
and closed the door
and hasn't stopped by since.
"You have no right to me," it said.
"Just give me one reason," it said.
"And we'll be together," it said.
Dried prunes in the bowl on the table
had nothing to say. The cat,
even less.
"How dare you," I said.
"You never put the toilet seat down," I said.
"I'm better off without you here," I said.
And hoping sadness would get held up
in a Market Street bazaar, or robbery in progress,
I crossed its name out in my address book,
and crying, tried to come up with a reason.
SomethingLikeLit
44 deviations
Snapshots
26 deviations
Surreal
9 deviations
Sketches
28 deviations
Contests
14 deviations
Scraps
34 deviations
