Take your breath away.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Jake left quickly, grabbing his hat, a jerrycan of gasoline, and a handful of matches. He didn't have a plan, just an idea of what needed to go away. The house, the barn, the pickup truck that didn't run anyway. Let the tax man have anything else that was left. There wasn't any insurance so there wouldn't be much of a investigation. If the old man was still alive, he'd be real proud.
at 7:09 PM
Saturday, May 28, 2011
She's drawn to red
like blood, like roses, like chili peppers
for love, for understanding
for the space to see
who she was, who she might become
She dreams deeply, most nights
hoping to avoid the chill of nightmares
the fever of fear
When she awakes and the sun is out
she feels guilty
afraid she is not living up
to the bargain she made
with the devil or an angel
she's never sure which
The bargain she made
to trade control for security
to trade freedom for family
to compromise, compromise, compromise
at 8:23 PM
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Leaning against the wall in front of the hotel, they linger for hours, watching the late-comers, the one-night stands, couples in the city for the weekend. A prostitute across the street walks back and forth. They wonder which one is her john and which one is her pimp. They cling ever so softly to this fragile moment, afraid to disturb the delicate balance. She looks into his pale unlined face and wants this night to last forever. When the dark is almost gone, she leans to touch his cheek, takes his hand and leads him up to the room, to the waiting bed. They lie quietly, fully clothed. She holds him carefully, their mouths touch. Afraid to disturb the delicate balance, they kiss with eyes closed, without longing, for all she ever wanted is already there. Brackish light fills the room, they drift in dreamless sleep. And when he’s gone and the day is like a trance, she feels older but no wiser.
at 5:10 PM
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Always watching over her shoulder, waiting for the next crisis, the knock at the door, the ambulance screaming through the neighborhood. Always waiting for the long lost mother to drop by, the phone call from the sheriff, the pound to arrest her dog and lock him up for life. Always hoping she can outlive it all, find peace (if not salvation), and meet her end unafraid.
at 2:42 PM
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Anna, tall, sturdy, brown from years in the sun,
guardian of my hopes and dreams,
turning the soil her life's work,
the promise in the seeds and twigs her religion.
Child of her child, I'd follow in her steps
from morning to day's end, when,
her voice coarse with age and cigarettes,
yet soft with hope,
she'd take me in her arms and sing.
at 3:46 PM
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Artwork by Maureen Shockey
But no play for me. Not yet. I'm spending my day retrieving artwork that has been boxed and stored for 5 years. Some is damaged (leaky storage unit), none beyond repair. All bring back memories from the past: places I've lived, jobs I've had, friends and lovers, good times and bad. Not a bad way to celebrate Beltane.
at 10:13 AM