Tag: experimentation

  • honey

    top view of bees putting honey
    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
    she gushed candied lies
    something saccharine fierce
    living labyrinthine sweet but
    only fools fall for her
    promised treat

    empty hands & honey
    stolen child & treacle
    too sweet too sweet too sweet

  • Waiting for the interurban

    city street with cars during night time
    Photo by Josh Hild on Pexels.com

    The bus was running late, as usual. The only sensible thing to do in such conditions is to smoke a cigarette, as far as Paul was concerned. So he did.

    “I’ve run out of fucks to give,” he said, dropping a pinch of tobacco into the cigarette paper. He shifted the distribution of the tan, shredded leaf, pushing it to the edges of the paper. The amount was still unsatisfactory by whatever criteria he had, so another pinch was added shifted about until he was satisfied and his fingers started their practiced rolling to transform the package into a serviceable cigarette.

    (more…)

  • first kiss

    [response]

    stone raven black
    her slow hand turns
    on the moon
    in lace and silhouette
    waiting on dusk
    to kiss me
    a bridge closer home,
    ever to her side

    [call]

    Laughing into the fire
    Is it always like this?
    Flesh and blood and the first kiss
    The first colors, the first kiss

    ~ Siamese Twins

  • interview

    is this thing on?
    [inaudible—
    steel wheel and flint— 
    breathing out—
    more inaudible—]

    yeah man. two fingers. neat.
    [off-mike laughter / on-mike laughter]
    oh fuck no, don't you dare.
    rocks are for wussies who
    don't really like their whiskey,
    but like to pretend they do.
    [the sound of a glass set down on wood]
    aintcha heard of a fucking coaster?
    jesus. [more shuffling sounds]
    it might be shit wood veneer, but
    show some respect, willya?

    [machine wheels turn—
    new voice enters]
    do you mind if we just to the chase?
    can i be blunt?

    [nervous laughter—
    first voice returns— sound
    of someone sipping]
    sure, sure. let's get on with it. exclusive
    access, might as well take
    advantage of it. ask away ask away.

    why do you eat them?

  • Fracture

    close up of thick ice
    Photo by Евгения Егорова on Pexels.com

    It began as a fracture, the kind that forms on the thin ice when the breaking point is reached from much too much weight put upon it from above.

    Though it was our memory and not ice, there was still the audible crack that could be heard over the firestorm as it raged over us, consuming with words meant to puncture our flesh like arrows full drawn on a great bow. Name calling like thrown stones and razor spite in a cutting rain that fell upon our heads. It was not that long ago that we embraced Mr. Wendell, but the rains came (as they eventually will) and he was given over to the middens for the sake of survival. So much for cohabitation and burning the white sheets…

    And so, our memory cracked in spiderweb, the baby screamed, and we saw the cascade of a dream crumble to the dirt in the name of filthy lucre and the pale. You get what you give, they said, and you gave hate.

    Perhaps, but we were loving in how we hated.

    I wrapped my blind eyes in linen, hung my head, feeling the fracture claw at my own brittle past begin to sunder. I walked away and grew old, unable to hold onto the younger days.