Sunday, July 27, 2014


Numbers never lie.
There is always a deeper shade of blue,
a darker down to the drowning.
Take your typical Saturday night

(the kind you secretly swear
is stultifying your soul)
times the shrill ringing of a phone -
that's misery multiplied.
Or, the grit in your eye,

the blink, blur, blindspot
that comes and goes -
a square root that wends and winds
through cortex and lobe
subtracting sight.
The earth shakes,

but, still, you rotate,
hour added to hour,
day, night, day,
sleep, wake, do it again.

is a curious, tender equation -


Carry the remainder.

I'm supposed to be packing for my vacation, so this is a bit rough.  I just couldn't leave without working up something for Play It Again (Grapeling's Word List) at Real Toads.

Saturday, July 26, 2014


I saw a stegosaurus in a barbed wire yard.
Scrap metal art.
A Jurassic trailer park.
A Clash song later,
I saw a rocket car.

Shit is getting weird.

Turns out, I'm not crazy.  The "rocket car" was actually Oregon State University's solar race car.  It was being driven cross country for a race.

If you're interested, you can view the scrap metal dinosaurs just north of Rush Springs, Oklahoma!

Friday, July 25, 2014

Sister To The Sky

Photo Credit: Zulo

Kept sinking
till I swore off gravity,
stopped thinking,
and realized

that falling
is flying without wings;
the ground
is open wide

and sister to the sky.

For Hannah's prompt at Real Toads

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Miss Terri

Miss Terri tells the time
by the wine left in the bottle.

Miss Terri knows where all good wishes go.

Miss Terri is the wick and waste
of an unlit candle.

Miss Terri is the shadow on a soul.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014


It seems solid enough to the naked eye,
but brought up close and magnified,
the smallest sliver of ancient life
has more holes than the theory of creation.
Having successfully meddled in healthcare, our good friends at Hobby Lobby have turned their attention to building a Bible museum in Washington, D.C. and designing a curriculum for the Oklahoma City Public Schools.  Jesus wept.
For Words Count at Real Toads

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

If We Had

If we had evenings
in companionable silence;
if we had nights
of discarded lace;
if we had mornings
as others have mornings,

of the poetry erased.

Monday, July 21, 2014

At The Drive-In

At the drive-in,
Schemer and Dreamer
are a stuck zipper away
from more than foreplay.
He's panting and printing
yellow grease on her bra.
There's popcorn in his teeth;
he's belching beer through a straw.
And her favorite romance novel
is a wishbone in her craw,
buried deep
as the gearshift in her back.

For Open Link Monday at Real Toads