Family Histories
By agnosticnun
- 119 reads
A Good Run
Stuck in this room, body half dead. My mouth doesn’t work much since the stroke. Or my hands. So between visits I mostly sit here. Watching memories like a tv in my head.
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- 709 reads
Bands, Beers and Old Boyfriends
Bands, beers and old boyfriends don’t mix. It’s good beer though, malty and brown And it’s only the heat of alcohol going down, That makes me feel...
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- 1357 reads
Between the Photographs
Pictures scattered across years In a family album, faces fading with time. As they do.
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- 633 reads
Debris
I am not ready for this to end-- Clearing your house of memories. / These things I found:
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- 2932 reads
Growing Up Canine
It is not that I was raised by wolves - my parents yipped and fought like humans do. But still I grew half-feral. ...
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- 2452 reads
Histories of a small town in Ontario
We were a town before there was a country, homesteads clustering, Grown from blood and dirt and starvation. Ships came over from Ireland. Don’t ask,...
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- 3088 reads
Love in the Days of Dial-up
We met on a VMS mainframe Over dialup, in bits per second - 1200
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- 1642 reads
Philosophy and Cappuccino
I used to dream this - turning in a bookstore Or an airport, and seeing you. But of course you found me on Facebook.
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- 3233 reads
The Language of Dead Flowers
image by Johua Veitch Michaelis, source Flicker.com used in acc with CC BY SA 2.0 Some flowers wilt softly into mulch. Others crackle and prick like autumn leaves Or cacti.
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- 4502 reads
The Moving Vans of my Childhood (late IP: moving)
As a child I lived in seven houses. I learned how to sort life into boxes, that gardens could make way for pavement, to love only those toys I could...
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- 1728 reads