Kettle Music

Brewing up a symphony
Cherry

together and apart at a train station

space a suited, booted lady plugged into her muscial, solipsistic world clicks her ankles space

a rose without pettles

A maroon midnight moves lovers in desire. A pink sky. A tulip for the sun. If only it was only so only now

home out of home

eyes for symphonies, ears for rainbows, fish from water, doves from white; home from home is now home so let's welcome the present simple and a swansong for home
Cherry

Packing

Sweetheart, I know it's hackneyed But I am shoving my guts Into a Billabong rucksack In the hope that If I take them on a mini-break They will learn to behave. And, yes, I might be listening

Memories Into Touch

If we have only moments such as this to turn to in the pages of our lives, posing in some place made significant. Looking uncomfortably too aware of our uneasy smiles, while staring off

You can google too.

You can Google too. Google images of words that need no images; Sorrow will bring you to many tears. Abandonment will give you much emptiness;

Phoenix, Arizona

Phoenix, Arizona Wed. March 23- Amherst, N.Y.
Cherry

Josie

A chapter from a longer piece I'm working on. How long I'm not sure yet. It's the first piece of writing I've managed for months. First draft. 4,000 words.
Cherry

Stains

Butterscotch milk edges the window, I made you dab-dab it all embarassed. Spattered chianti behind my bed, a failed date sparked out by 11. A patina of cum under a poster of Louise Brooks

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