Tag Archives: summer
17 , 17 syllable American Sentences
Following a dVerse incentive i try the American Sentence a flourish of lines at 4am this morning hope they go down ok
1: his nose punched flat lips split pouted looking for a fight every night
2: a can of schlitz sunset and low slung impala remedy for loss
3: obstinate kisses infect toothache jaw ache headache neurology needed
4: motel marinade coated and baked off counted dollars and returned to the street
5: diamond finger tug gold band reminder these kisses where illicit
6: sat hunched on the toilet hand working the memory that he had betrayed
7: winters pale counterpane gave no shelter for the rabbit from predatory air
8: reasons could be found on the diminishing length of yesterdays words
9: dial the number wait for tone he would not answer he is long gone
10: jazz piano raw as her voice began to crack it was no longer 1954
11: seek the stars and they will not shine anticipating the moment to surprise
12: guitar strings strangle all chances of finding reconciliation
13: two finger pressure shudder she releases a sigh he was erased
14: bellboy at end of marble hall hear titans whisper demise of poor
15: grandpa’s hand once so steady gone leaves remember tobacco smell
16: over ocean swathe she watches vessel under pirates color sail
17 : amity beach july bathers swim children play mayor falters shark prowls
window, Hanku by Christopher Lawrence
Thank you Bukowski on Wry
sedoka #1
desire crawls past
as seasons speak in tongues gone
the infinite becomes ghost,
seasons spit lingers
poor heart withers for kisses
this season brings back the lost
Our Days To Live
the heat was a jacket
to be worn on it’s own
heavy and coarse,
beading forehead
moistening arm,
stepping from porch
onto ground crenulated
by dryness,
haze lifting off blacktop
cars silhouette shimmer,
already a dry clamor
at the throat that was not
trepidation,
another car appeared
a blue sedan tinted windows
Buick or some make,
kerbside waiting
pulled alongside,
“you getting in son”
at the controls was dad,
sixteen years had passed
since the thing we don’t
like to remember occured,
now as we did sometimes
drive out four miles,
river curved tight towards
the bridge,
rod and line cast,
under tree placed shade
and beer cold in the
cooler,
we lingered in this
quiet place.
California Beaches
sand stuck to her
like pepper on a steak,
i could almost feel textured
braille of messages
upon her skin,
beneath those
pieces of cloth
anatomy to be discovered,
i ache , i pain
she carries on by,
and i take up my pad
and write
velvetmedia 