Slash-and-Burn

You hadn't been out to the family's corn fields in years. Now, while it's burning, you decide to drive out to see one. You know Daddy will be out there, watching over things. He would want to make sure the fire didn't spread to the woods across the one-lane country highway. There he stands. Daddy.... Continue Reading →

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Melt, Wilt, Wring

If an ice cube melts in Cyprus, Would a seal feel it in Alaska? I ask ya. When a willow wilts in Thailand, Will the terrain sprout a new one in Belgium? C'mon. Tell 'em. If I wring my soul dry like a wet towel here, Would you be soul-thirsty there? I'll wait, wondering, in... Continue Reading →

Do They Know?

How does a purple-blossomed plant Thank the light? Does any part of the flower's petals, stalk, or leaves-- That have turned richer shades of purples and greens-- Even know that it is gratitude that it perceives When in the sun's light it basks and beams? What if that flower knows and screamed An infinite shriek... Continue Reading →

Equinox

Both of them an equinox, His pallid bones, her ivory blocks, Her ebony of solid wood, And his the darkness he'd withstood. His heart on every line he rained And out shed music from her veins. None knows, observing her with him, Where her blood ends and his begins. Sharesies!

On Turtleback Lane

“Storm’s over, Girlie,” He hath said to me. “Thunder’s shook and passed you, Sugar; Our promises We keep.” “We opened your chest And poured you full of what We wilt. Then, by and by, We made sure you landed Well within the rye.” “Don't think that the rye fields are safe for good,” He continued... Continue Reading →

He Had a Hat

It was at one of those swim-at-your-own-risk beaches. That's not to say it was any riskier than any other beach, but there were no lifeguards nor anyone else. The mother and her little son had the stretch of surf and sand all to themselves that day. Of course her husband's sixteen-hour work days were exhausting,... Continue Reading →

Palomitas for the Pasture?

They. Those. I see them. I see them, too, as do you. Those fleeting enticements Of the eye, (the glassy surface of the eye). In this garden of love Those peacocks sure do come a'callin'. But they aren't peacocks. They are palomitas. Ain't never goan be nothing but Palomitas Which offer no sustenance, No turbulence... Continue Reading →

Shift Change

This is the truth about which there is no doubt, so says your abuelita. As for you, well, you're just una niña pequeña. For as all-knowing as you think you are, the fact remains that the bottom half of your life hourglass has only so much sand for you to learn from. And that ain't... Continue Reading →

In Mr. Habte’s Apartment (also, see the writer’s challenge after this story)

a list of the contents in the trash bin belonging to Mr. Nadir Habte: one set of sweat-soaked, piss-wetted, blood-stained bed sheets one shattered bedside lamp and light bulb seven used tissues--all drenched in mucus and tears, some speckled with blood glass shards from a broken bathroom wall mirror scraps cut from a length of... Continue Reading →

Unfinished Painting

There is a man sleeping on the floor in our basement. There's a couch down there. Blankets too. But he does not use them. He has slept here every night since the "cover-all-skin" weather started last week. That's what Fern calls it--my wife. Fern once had a childhood friend who was outside for too long... Continue Reading →

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