Tag Archives: past life poems

Ro. Sham. Beau. 

It was all fun and games            (dynamite, really) until one of us    (that would be me) hit rock                  (paper, scissors) bottom.  ::In April, we poem.

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repeat, after me 

in 1990, we said “i do.”  you didn’t. i did.  for several years i vowed to lie here another day.to make you stay. to make you pay. to get away.  ibid. ibid. ibid. :: Day 22 for NaPoWriMo.

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Study Hall & -Otes 

We’ve both got Biology homework and so we start there and Mr. G. is in charge of all us derelicts today any-way so if we have any questions, he’s here.  (Although he’s the one who always says “Better to keep your mouth closed and remaina fool … Continue reading

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Happy Trails 

Ainsley was only 3, and she called me ‘Misty,” because I guess when you’re 3 your preschool  teacher ‘Miss De’ sounds like ‘Misty.’ And she’d be about 38 years old now and sometimes I want to tell her I still feel Misty. … Continue reading

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two for the road

the night she finally (almost) left  1, 2 puts on the shoes  3, 4out the door  5, 6 in a fix  7, 8  too late, too late 9, 10 start over again   :: carry the 1  I got new rules; I count ’emI … Continue reading

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Seven years after she makes her escape

,  all she remembers is blood -red wine in fragile glasses,  and empty plates the color of bone.   ::twiglet #225

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Altered States

I am at home everywhere, and nowhere. I am never a stranger and I never quite belong.    – Georges Simenon  Fold the map at the middle and you’ll find the places she’s lived:  born in Victorville, CAand then Florida (both coasts) by way of NC.  Oh,Ohio is … Continue reading

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{The Moment I Most Likely Knew}

.. You headed hard for that horizon haze, leaving me with nothing but this harlot moon, and hints of stone.   .. In November, we poem.     

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Black & White

Got a photograph of a smile taken way back when we could smile. Now this plane will take me where, I don’t know… – Collective Soul   .. There’s a sepia tone smile somewhere in this drawer that says we … Continue reading

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Mango Sky

It’s 4:30 A.M. on a Tuesday It doesn’t get much worse than this In beds in little rooms in buildings in the middle of these lives which are completely meaningless …………..Counting Crows, Perfect Blue Buildings The mass of men lead … Continue reading

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