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***
I
gave up hunting
for
something to write
about
years ago. Now
I
write about two things
only:
I write about life,
..
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***
Slowly
he rose from the dirt and moved
towards
the cellar door his hands filled
with
regrets in six small sleeping w..
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***
I
bet about now you're asking yourself
what
does drier lint have to do with Fentanyl?
Well,
nothing, really, other than bo..
|
|
***
When
I
read my
parents’ will,I
realizedI already hadmostof
what they hadleft behind. Frommother, came desireto
always buy..
|
|
***
I've
always thought it's dogs
that
got it right; if something doesn't
smell
the way that it should, they
simply
hike a..
|
|
***
Crying
comes in all sizes from smallest
sadness
of a read story to total anguish felt
by
a crying father who is leaving beh..
|
|
***
I
must have been around age eight
when
I was first taught how to hate
a
lesson harder to forget than to learn.
..
|
|
***
Brick
and mortar surround a wood frame,
a
house in search of its home wearing
pennants
in various colors, its dollars
..
|
|
***
It's
time
to
write
where
is
the
muse?
said
paper
to
the pen.
Pen
replied,
Maybe
beneath
..
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|
***
Carl
caught up to me in the cabbages
his
steel-toed boots having plowed a path
behind
him all the way from the turnips.
..
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