[a little roadside poetry emergency] It’s anaphylactic, this shock the poison juice of a forbidden fruit dribbled down my throat so the silver tape constricts til I need a longer sort of breath. Look, just rip off the cap, don’t fuss for the
I had a foot out the door when she stopped me, not what she said but how she said it, trailing. She sat at her table, next to a walker and her new friends on the Price is Right blinking
I hide simple beans in my cupboard. Black, sometimes pinto — suspicious of unspellable gypsies who come and go as they please, one day adorned with an arbitrary z, the next casting it off it like a bitter seed coat, crowing
I thought I’d be eligible for benefits by the time I got done discussing a fellow’s case with Medicare this week. Note to interested parties: It is terribly difficult to send money to a government agency. In response to L.L.
None seemed to feel when the earth turned over and spun the other way Sitting in rooms I wanted to leave I said words I wanted to stifle, heard answers I wanted to swallow like bad medicine spewing back upstream When bedrock pitched
She eats fear with morning coffee chunks of ash, black in her mouth worries cinders between delicate fingers mixed with a trickle from her cheek to spread on burnt toast