Category Archives: prose poem

Open Book

The book lay between them. Something soft, something breathing lightly in the corner of the room. “Open it,” he said. She turned to stare off into some spectacular distance. The book had been on the “A” shelf but he had … Continue reading

Posted in prose poem | Tagged | Leave a comment

The Stopping Hand

How the dark stains the shadow, some shapeless foolery, some cool corner we didn’t see where the dust landed like tiny flocks of pigeons, roosting for the duration, quills settled in unruffled silence where no wind flew, no hawk dove, … Continue reading

Posted in prose, prose poem | Tagged | Leave a comment

Snarl — To write, to live

That snarl — cur, holding inside a tornado of wrath, of slash/burn vitriol — what do I do with that, as a writer and as a person? I want to write it down, of course. To remember that moment, to … Continue reading

Posted in prose, prose poem | Tagged | Leave a comment

Direction

Winter’s circular bones — you know when you detach, exit, look for your car in the snow and wonder?  The time of the Greeks to the time when you can’t find your car in the snow — it all passes … Continue reading

Posted in prose, prose poem | Tagged | Leave a comment

Foresting the Hillside

Sometimes, when the butter just warms up, you’ll run outside with feathers trailing behind you. Your darkest furrowed look — how impressive you seem. But it bodes well. Amazing arms, something extrudes from fingers — seeds, shooting from the fingertips … Continue reading

Posted in prose, prose poem | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Road

3am drunk in the bushes and you started on about poison ivy and this dream and Follow that! Her finger points to the yellow highliter tracing a route east. I cross ramps past the twining featureless road, unmapped, outside the … Continue reading

Posted in prose, prose poem | Leave a comment

The Lines of a Letter

Lines.  There’s a wall, and strings hanging from the sky. This isn’t a dream nor is it a place I want to live but I’m reaching for height where there’s only the weight of all this, bearing down, bearing down … Continue reading

Posted in prose, prose poem | Leave a comment