Tag Archives: Poetic Asides
She left pieces of her life behind her everywhere she went. It’s easier to feel the sunlight without them, she said. – Brian Andreas .. This poem is my missing pieces. The grief. The shame. The same small dreams I … Continue reading
.. , this poem is a long lost song on tip of tongue, a memory rising as mist or smoke. a broken bottle scattered, not yet smoothed to sea glass. the jagged syllables of a name that once mattered. a … Continue reading
.. This poem is a soft-shelled crab, the drab and unadorned way the world sighs just before a storm. It can’t be dry -cleaned, or steamed or hung on a line. It won’t be patient with your heart, or your … Continue reading
.. Nothing bitter. No coffee, no cold -heart stare, no chairs without comfort. No root. No soot. Nothing batter. No waffles. No pan -cakes, no average. No pitch black night with softball stars. Nothing bit her. Not the love bug … Continue reading
she dreams in couplets, breathes in metered feet. she snores to the beat of words that treat themselves to feathered phrase and counting sheep. Prompted by Poetic Asides.
… Call it what you want (depends on where you’re from). It’s just a fizzy drink, and arguing is dumb. Some call it simply “soda,” while others call it “pop.” And any brand can be a “coke;” it’s all just sugar-slop. … Continue reading