Posts for June 20, 2026 (page 2)

I saw the cover a long time ago
and I read the back description too
but I can’t remember why I didn’t buy it
then.
I thought about it a little after
and then I forgot about it
and then
for some reason
I thought about it again later.
It had a certain mood, a certain style
it was a great example of a type of story
that just doesn’t seem to exist anymore.
Then one day I finally bought it
and much later I finally read it
and the mood wasn’t that present
and the style not that distinct
and it wasn’t all that different
from something new I’d read
a weekend before.

No one harms me. Not the garden spider I met
when wrapping my hand around the bent neck
of a fallen spray of peach knockout roses,
to sever the color, steal and dry their beauty,
before they collapse in the gathering dew.
Tiny fangs kissed my ring finger without catching
my attention. I only notice the bite as I lie weary
in the cool drift of nightfall. I let no one harm me
but myself. The insolence of a welt budding red 
beside my knuckle strikes a horror deep within.
Defiant, I eclipse the wound with my teeth, take
the perspective of the threatened and the threat,
spit my own venom, feeling nothing, savoring
petal-soft skin as it unfurls beneath my sharpness.

I felt invincible on top 

When the sun strikes your eyes
and you’re blinded for a moment.
You believe for a few seconds that
something new could appear. Maybe
I would come back to this small
town one day. Remember me when
it’s been many years and you find
a birthday card with my signature
on it. You pray that I’ll visit next
Christmas but we both know the
truth. Cross-country flights are too
expense these days to book for
every single holiday. Remember me
when you see our favorite flowers
in the grocery store and try to recall
the fuzzy memory of our first date.
These memories faded quickly when
I moved away, even though we 
tried our very best. Remember me.

Some small part of me still lives,
extraneous. I don’t recognize the
reflection in my mirror, can’t
ignore that stranger, can’t do anything
at all. The part of me that still
lives should have been

killed. But you killed her
instead.
Lured her away, so far away.
Lost, forever, from me.
Everything should’ve ended then, yet
rolling clouds cover the sun, then roll on.

I want to go back
to that dorm room with you.
I’ll love you right this time around,
so you’ll love me, too.

But I’m a thing that needs freedom,
and you kept a tight tether.
I hissed and bit and clawed,
and now we’re not together.

I’m free from you now,
alone
with the pain and sorrow
and ghosts of lilacs that you’d grown.

She sat underneath the largest oak she found in the park
the air was hot
her breath was shallow
trying to focus on the task at hand
struggling again not knowing where she would land
phone calls and interviews
one after another 
nothing seemed to be the right fit
she took her shoes off and ran her toes through the grass
connecting her soul to the earth once again 
breathing deeper now 
she leaned back on her elbows
lifted her eyes to the canopy of green that shaded her from the blazing sun
her thoughts drifted to the stories this magnificent  beauty could tell
slowly she let her imagination take over
day dreaming of the lovers who sat in this very spot 
or the new mother gently rocking her sleeping child 
each branch held a different story just waiting to be told.
the children who eagerly climbed the low hanging branches many years ago and
so many others found comfort here.
that’s the story she would share
It was time to go a storm was coming in
she felt lighter now 
she would  return soon 
to sit under this amazing oak 
she promised to share her both her sorrows and joy
as a mighty breeze blew in  almost as an acknowledgement
a branch gently touched her cheek
she turned and walked a away a warm smile crossed her face.

Learn to love what kills you.
Study its poison and
make models of the guillotines
severing each breath from the next.
Embrace
the facelessness of tomorrow
while mapping every twist
and turn in the labyrinth,
descending into a glittering black
hell whose devils carry
souls of abandoned memories—
the light they once knew
before they were lost to
the union that is heaven.

            On this 
            hot, humid day,
            a cardinal flies into
            a bird bath 
            in the shade.

            It made
            a path,
            under water, a few
            times, to play
            this
           
            time with wings
            shaking wildly,
            water droplets
             creating a mist
             before it flew away.

            It was a 
            hot humid day, the gist
            of the cardinal splashing lets
            my feelings flee
            toward poetry as the bird sings

            in the oak.

oh God not golf
I wish I was kidding
Actual hell I fear
it’s somewhere in the arena
Food service for you
Yay, you got it!
That dog will be there with the roaches and the twinkies