I emerged from the school in a thunderstorm, surrounded by strangers banging pots and tins and wearing crinkly aluminum clothing. Of course the lightning struck them.
Tag Archives: storm
The Outlet is Crying
My window collects condensation where warm humidity meets winter’s display, but today the outlet on the wall also had droplets, around the socket– those eyes looked sad about something, so I started guessing: the seasonal blues an ache of some kind a premonition of a power-losing storm; or maybe it cried about how I couldn’tContinue reading “The Outlet is Crying”
Storm Call
you ever wondered if you could eat lightning, then leak it between your teeth like crushing consonants, what words it would make?
Mannequin at Midnight
Wooden eyes don’t cry solid hearts don’t ache but I’m no mannequin without will to move my hands
Before the Storm
“If you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything” might be why I fall for your glow every time I walk into a room, hello, sunshine, the seasons are in bloom but I’m terrified of what lurks deep below, will you take my hope in the dead of night and marry her to theContinue reading “Before the Storm”
Snap Apple Alfalfa Flappa
“Ew” faces look like wrinkly lettuce leaves,
or so some omnivorous rabbits say, a baby’s eyes seen sideways seem like button holes, or so some sleepy dreams claim, but even in the waking world they breathe
Freezing Rain
There’s pretzels outside. Dipped in clear chocolate, hanging low over creaking snow. The crunchy candy’s layered thick, inviting a thirsty lick, a cold touch crackles it breaks the pretzel salt on the sidewalk sprinkled for freshly baked branches.
Like Happiness. Yeah?
My heart’s like a laptop, I’ve got apps going on across the sides, and windows open, my emotions change like the wind and my thoughts, my busy day come and go like switching tabs; but the backdrop behind it all should look something like happiness. Yeah? Maybe I was expecting too much, or comparing myselfContinue reading “Like Happiness. Yeah?”
