“Ok, what I need to know is,”
his hands shake,
“are you going to help,”
he’s flailing his arms now,
“with this scene, or not?”
The reply is a slap.
Category: Poems
fictions, speculative dreams, and meditations
Oh, my soul
Main Content
Imagine I’m a mime berating your neighborhood. Fences become scaffolding for my ARGH! skins; I plaster them on everything. Great big ARGHS! on windows and gates and your cul-de-sac becomes my exclamation mark.
By the time you gasp, you’re covered in assorted ARGH! stickers, ARGH! patches, and a cute ARGH! hat.
“Oh, my soul.”
Endnotes
If you imagine that well enough you will understand the public shame I am facing. A collection of plug-ins, scripts, podcast solutions, and possibly Terms of Services, have colluded to destroy my creditability and happiness.
These River Cities
We’re overlooking the river when
I tell you about how it took me three years
to discover Ann Arbor has a river.
It was a story that ended
With a woman proclaiming
“These river cities.”
Before the Tribunal; excerpt
I do, and you should visit my blog, as long as you’re mindful that no category is any less important, well maybe Site Issues—unless, you too find poetry in the absurd.
He shouts in a mad pirouette
But, of course you know that
You shadowy judges
That hold my fate in skeletal fingers
I am to trust!
Look, here, you points
All you waving fingers here
Are to
Mindfully observe the path
and give me the respect
of reconstruction.
You are workers with blueprints
You are to build!