How much do you cost to be alive? Every drink a dollar bill, every bite more dollar bills, every shelter dollar bills, every trip more dollah bills, cellular fills sunken hills cost of pills, my life’s a time crunched jar of moments, grimy hands wipe me out, I grime my hands spending my time beggingContinue reading “money money”
Tag Archives: time
brought up for war
Runabon grew too, and like her father she found herself a boy and was fine with it and the two of us drifted
savage
The village stranger loses her curiosity after a year or so, the adventurer learns the names of the log cabin dwellers
Back North
Hey Kid, it’s been a while since I’ve been back north. Have the daffodils sprung up yet in the flower beds? Have the magnolias bloomed? Are the puddles expanding outside the window, are your boots tall enough to stomp through them and stay dry up top? Hey Kid, I listened to a Raye song, andContinue reading “Back North”
clock/night watch
I watch the clock like a hawk, stressed for the alarm to blare; it doesn’t care that it scares away the mice in the nightmare nice but there in the sleep stare at least I don’t have to climb out of bed sleep-deprived and go to work for another greedy jerk to take credit forContinue reading “clock/night watch”
Unto this aftermath
In the fallout from a frightening world, may we sculpt our nightmares into architectures of memory for future generations to climb and build their dreams up to the towering stars. *** Check out this ICE out of Minnesota page and this page for ways to help
stronghold
In the story books I read at home, the captured maiden was always blindfolded or asleep and never knew where her captors took her until
in 3 years’ time
in three years I think I aged twenty, from a little girl to a teen in ratty clothing and poorly brushed hair. But I learned runes,
New Stage of Life
Wisdom of the Ancients
If I could go back to my prime with all I know now, maybe I could really accomplish something. Make something of my joyous name, make this laughing spell between us stay the same. But what is my “prime”? Seven years old, innocent, playing games of succession? Eleven, on the cusp of depression? Older, myContinue reading “Wisdom of the Ancients”
Jordyn Saelor 