Tag Archives: Quickly

Quickly. Quickly now.

Posted on September 17, 2018 by whimsygizmo

.. Tell the sky she’s bold and beautiful and vast and strong. Tell the ocean she’s got someplace else to go. Tell the world we’ve got a song to sing to all these spaces, broken places stitched together with ash … Continue reading →

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Mast (Mask) and Sail

Posted on July 31, 2018 by whimsygizmo

I dreamed I was more than moored, but less than Lake. That the shaking of these limbs (this breeze) was about more than trees (and less than song.) I dreamed I belonged to the sea, and that she gave me … Continue reading →

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Pocketing Blue

Posted on January 16, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… Okay, the horizon’s gone a little murky and the air -waves are a cacophony of argumentation and delineation and falsification and hate. We debate and we try to satiate our hunger with happenstance instead of hope. We grope around … Continue reading →

Posted in Miz Q January, moon poems | Tagged , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Tuesday Night at the Howard Johnson’s

Posted on January 11, 2017 by whimsygizmo

    Barb’s all frizzle-frazzled again; they’ve been hoppin’ since the show (Girls! Girls! Girls!) let out, a bunch of loudmouthed louts shouting against the sizzle of the grill. But the tips are good and her kid needs shoes and … Continue reading →

Posted in Miz Q January | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Waggling a Dodgeball Sky

Posted on May 17, 2016 by whimsygizmo

.. We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you this small sting of stars, this long string (theory) of cars headed straight out of the city. Have you broken any laws as of late? Gravity? Gravitas? A brusque briskling … Continue reading →

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Construction (Paper) Zone

Posted on January 5, 2016 by whimsygizmo

.. She tames the world in poems, orange cones placed care -fully to define the lines and bound -aries of her own un -broken soul. Fold her origami style, smile when she meanders across the dotted lines again, stains herself … Continue reading →

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Prerequisites

Posted on August 30, 2015 by whimsygizmo

.. We need some string to tether the moon when it flees the sky. We need a still slipknot that holds as loose as a hand’s whisper, and a shadow shawl of nightspill to pad the ache that fills the … Continue reading →

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