the Children’s Place

You had to walk, big and tall. In this, the children's place. That is, if you dare walk at all. My loose ends, from blankets of downy despair. Shag, drab, carpeting, coveted the falls. Baneful comforts arrived such as, gypsies in the night. Creature comforts mere flukes. Strings to a grounded kite. This, my children's … Continue reading the Children’s Place

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Old Slaughterhouses

Sultry subtleties, of change have surrounded the camp. Red leaf, blue sky, old slaughterhouses... Not a one to ask, 'why?' Just the stillness of what used to be. Infatuated with lies. From one breath to another. 'What brings you here?' Only met up with assorted feral cries. Fashioned by the old. But surrounded by new. … Continue reading Old Slaughterhouses

Woolworth Days

  Had it been any somber inclination... More mist would fall. Yet, the impoverished ground... Began it transcendence to hell. Long before only one wish fell down the stoned well. ∞ Tell me one last time of love. Tell me one last spoken verse... Of what you had intended to do. How red had been … Continue reading Woolworth Days

The House on Main Street

Tell you what I remember. Slide shows. Kisses goodnight on the cheek. Hardwood floors that announced every creepy, creak. Plath read by dim light. A soiled brown journal... Locked up tight. Angry sentences filled with the holy spirit. Standing in line for the back of the familiar...weathered hand.   How long the hours can be. … Continue reading The House on Main Street

the House that Eugene Built

Had my soul been a house. It would have been filled with spirits of an anonymous kind. Disenchanted mirrors. Spouting monomers, not so refined. The phrase, "I love you." spoken in jest. "I love you." Bringing to my earth only dust. ♠ However, I am not a house. I am a woman made of pliable, … Continue reading the House that Eugene Built