At The Crosswalk
A woman in a sleeveless dress
extends her arms out
in the wind, and with her eyes
behind her sunglasses
there is no way we can know
what she is looking at.
Tag: Creative Writing
Fractal
An empty wine jug rolls
on the shoulder of the road
by all the squashed dragonflies
so metallic when their luster
catches light.
Wetlands
The only thing I feel
is what I taste
she says while riding
in the backseat
of the rusted van
I borrowed from
a friend.
Outlaws
We were outlaw children
stealing DVDs and chocolate
tagging streetlights
in the midst of every getaway.
The long days
could not betray us
ankle deep in streams
that cut the highways
into pieces.
Mark
I see pieces of the world
break off like shattered ice.
City clocks on the foreheads
of storefronts show
the different times
this downtown finally died.
Wake
No more streets
full of angry neighbors
shaking all the trees,
the water runs clear.
Kairos
Automatic gates you need
the numbers for before
you even knock on any doors
run their chains along the gear.
Run
She drops a match onto
the pile and then another
when it doesn’t catch.
Brown leaves and dry sticks
from the sycamores
all rearranging themselves
to better grab the light.
Overshot
Two friends walk through the heat
out to the drug store
as just a way to say they went somewhere,
and carry home plastic bags
pale as flaking bone.
Reach
Feedback in the speakers
and I cannot chill out
for anything.
The whole crowd of kids
push an old man around
and scream about
how nobody belongs here
anymore.
