Category: Prose
-
Tender
Though you be almost ageless you are ever still the tender slut that first emerged without blemish from churning restless Okeanos. They say you were quick to be clothed though no cloth could ever hide that fragrant skin that shames roses or the shape of that perfect thigh. It would take more than poetry to…
-
Io Jupiter!
I see that smirk! That boyish grin brightly boasting behind that too damn old grizzled scheming beard. Cheeky shit. I’m totally blaming you, I hope you know. And by blaming, I mean thanking, because I know it’s not by accident you let your hand be seen. Not all tricks are played in spite. Sometimes fortune…
-
A Proper Response
Rip the veil over your face. Face the fire and spit up blood. Give the empty offering to the unclean altar. Crack the stones with your teeth. In bright light of day, offend sensibilities. Take the outrage as your overdue fee. Intone the forbidden syllables, shit your pride. Bless all your holies with pee. Blaspheme…
-
Forgive me. I am a thief.
Forgive me. I am a thief. I’ve come to steal back what is mine. What should have been mine.
-
Ares: The Opera Singer
Ares the opera singer paces his training for maximum effect. He does not push his voice to reach the notes at the edge of his skill at first, but instead trains his lungs for endurance and stamina by practicing holding low notes and learning how to control his diaphragm. Ares the opera singer does not…
-
Hungry
How many gods does it take to satisfy. A poem.135 words.
-
A Wildfire (in Southern California)
I am the bastard son of the sky and the ground. Sprouted whole from my mother’s sundered flesh. Implanted as she shuddered from my father’s intrusion. This biting weed I am. No root. All bloom. No comfort. All rage. I am the howling bitch that roars and devours. My children spread from me, and I…
-
The Mountain
It’s only stone. Just a whole lot of it. In one homogenous lump. That not even lichen has colonized. It’s only stone. It doesn’t feel. It only is. And it’s in my way. It’s only stone. It doesn’t adapt. But I do. And this too, I will pass over.
-
Sunset
A car’s horn shouting obscenities at the driver. The ice cream truck dropping the beat. The salvage truck is dragging the chain again. I see but can’t hear the little feet. The birds are making new grudges in the trees. The kids are teasing the dogs again. The summer party is spilling out into the…
-
A Delicate Flower
It was too small and frail for me to steal. Which is good. I didn’t want to commit such violence upon it. The flower was smaller than the tear that raced down my cheek after I tripped and fell in the abandoned lot. I missed crushing it by a generous inch. I held my breath…