Daily Archives: February 23, 2016

Franklin, m’Dear,

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

He gave a damn about a lot of things: Physics, the key to electricity, lightning rods, the balancing act of bifocals, illegitimate sons. Betcha $100 (or a half) that a whole lot of the ama -zing things he said were … Continue reading →

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StorySongs

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

… There’s a man on the street with dirty feet and an old guitar. He’s got $18 in an old jam jar, but he can’t seem to remember his way home. There are stories in his veins and in his … Continue reading →

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Bumble

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

… I’m bringin’ home a baby, ……..(bumblebee) she says. Won’t mama be ………….(so proud of me) surprised? My eyes are saucers of sour milk, knowing our whole world’s about to crackle loose and buzz into something else. My bubblegum snaps … Continue reading →

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Meanwhile, 95 miles south by south(l)east,

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

This poem has straight dark hair and ponytails and idle dimples. It’s simple, really: just add a few monks chanting in {prig}Latin, a satin stir -fry of peppers and mush -rooms of lingered lawn mowers (the scent of fresh-cut summer). … Continue reading →

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like a river

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

(Monet)    … I am shaken, stirred, blurred he leads me into something that can breathe, beside the still never left drowning in my own salt waters.   .. Written for Margo’s Tuesday Tryouts. 

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Four Words, Backwards

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

{one of his low, slurning books}   .. mawn lower,   fry. ………..stir.     .. Shawna word list. 

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Bell My U(nigh,verse) City {Pic: Sea Dust}

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

… Lemme ’splain my spleen: Sophie’s choice was a CT scan(-tilly clad) stir -fry cook monk chanting in {pig}Latin. (ixnay on the awn mower, lei) Long story short (straight dark hair): we blew a gasket, ordered a casket in pine, … Continue reading →

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Forever {Blowing Bubbles}

Posted on February 23, 2016 by whimsygizmo

.. She is sticky with glee, sending the trees her story in tiny round rooms, air-stuffed ellipsis of hope cast in quiet stream storms to a cobalt sky. She breathes new life into each one, sends them free fall floating … Continue reading →

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