Two little black eyes scanned over the swirl of faceless ghosts. Nope, he thought, no one familiar. Had he been surprised or had there been even the possibility he would have recognized anyone, his bony shoulders would have risen up for the simple pleasure of collapsing back down. Mind going over motion, he imagined his chest contracting as the air holding him aloft rushed out of his body in a … Read the rest
Author: bookworm
Poetry
Where The Sidewalk Begins
Where the sidewalk begins
the Mountain does not end―
The memories of her streambed
the footprints of an ant
course, crawl
just beneath the crust.
And they say a seed
can lie dormant a thousand years.
And they say a dream
can lie dormant a thousand years.
This is not a eulogy
to a footprint.
This is a song unwritten
when the pavement cracks.
God Gives … Read the rest
Kendall The String
Kendall was a string. The arc of her body stretched and interlaced with her fellow strings to form an intricately woven pattern. Kendall and this family of strings, as they soon became, lay day and night, awaiting some unknown fate. For what, Kendall hadn’t a notion, so she asked her mother one dreary and lazy string day what they were to do.
“What do you mean?” her mother asked soothingly, … Read the rest
Learning to Swim
The Puerto Rican woman next door is pounding on the dividing wall, screaming that I don’t pay her enough attention. Or maybe it’s just that I don’t pay her enough. Something is lost in translation, a word dropped, or just a letter even, and the whole meaning changes. You owe me. Or you own me. And I don’t know what she’s saying but I can tell that she’s naked because … Read the rest
Art Collection
MONA LISA
Standing with his palette before her,
Da Vinci blended his darkest hues;
layered grays of rain-soaked slate,
olive aged in oaken casks,
sepia tones of tilled earth,
the ochre of bedlam,
bleak chaff of defeat.
He laid down his brushes to study her face,
how life’s light shone through
the destroyed landscape behind,
dipped brush to paint to curve
a burnished road below her shoulder,
ribbon a silt … Read the rest
Wedding Day
A couple waited at a small table in a bakery for their order. They exchanged smiles and a few laughs between conversing and reminiscing. They chose this specific place and this specific day for nostalgia and right of passage. Between sharing their memories, they spoke little of what lay ahead.
They asked the man at the counter if their order was ready. The gentleman assured them it was coming. He … Read the rest
Nachos are the Best Invention: Fructiferous
Imagine, if you will, a man and a woman whose love for each other illuminates them from the inside. Their skin is effervescent, their mannerisms exaggerated and sporadic. They are timid in each others’ presence, almost. She still flushes softly at his gentle touch in public.
Imagine that you are a part of this couple, and you have come upon a milestone, not only in your relationship, but in your … Read the rest
Flash Before Her Eyes
Her hands were petite and boney like a child. Bruised knuckles the color of dark prune hung over the side of the soaking tub unmoving. An empty glass bottle lay on its side dry as bone as Amelia’s thin body rested in the darkening water. Her eyes gazed upward rounded and vacant like two clumps of brown dirt. The pieces of asphalt that once clung to her knees lay in … Read the rest
July
July
“Rafting is not worth dying for but it is worth doing.”
-Seth Dow
In July I moved onto a small platform on the riverfront and marked my claim with books. The wooden slat came with its own mattress, a mid-summer rarity in a city full of vagabond guides. It boasted three tarpaulin walls and an angled, waterproof roof. I liked it there. On mornings when I didn’t have work … Read the rest
Five Poems
1
raining carrots
oranges geen
silver drips from the shedtops
while washington market
thrives
and the carts still grumble by
and the pavement sings
to the iron wheels
and darkness chases white
and welcomes blackest black
of pale yellow light
and workmen their wares
amid the thunderous roar
of the city blackness
the huddled blackie stands
beneath the shores of light
and warms a black right hand
and music of … Read the rest