- Home > Archive: March, 2017
Nameless, the ant, walked in line with her sisters.
“Thoughts” did not so much enter her mind as influence its direction.
Do or Don’t. Pretty binary.
Do as the rest of the colony.
Don’t question as questions lead to insanity.
Bring back what you gather, be grateful to have a job in the new administration.
Ever notice how the champions of frugal living have money to burn?
When you’re broke, you don’t have the luxury of sacrifice.
Your entire life is spent getting back to zero.
Leonard wasn’t about to be without shoes.
Soaked through from the rain, he sat pensive vigil over them as they dried in the sun.
Blue light falling.
Ophelia hadn’t slept for months and the days all folded together like soft dough.
She spent her evenings bathed in blue flowers, playing digital roulette.
She’d gambled on him and lost everything.
Max smiled at her from across the table.
She then saw she’d also won someone who would never leave her.
Max hatched the idea with her.
For lemonade, infused with rosemary.
Could have bought lemons, but it was more romantic to steal them.
From the neighbor’s yard.
He waited until midnight, walked past the house.
Turned around and walked back.
Jumped the fence.
The sensors tripped the lights, their dog lunged, and all hell broke loose.
The Frenchman was convinced that Lizette was his.
Confident pushed his impulsive heart.
He had to ask even though they had only just met.
The hummingbird hovered above him, (how did it get inside)?
“Voulez vous diner avec moi, ce soir?”
“No, désolée, je ne peux pas…”
She tried to think of a French excuse.
Mickey couldn’t remember who.
Taught him the eyelash brush across the cheek.
A tender, whisper of a kiss.
Now he shared it with his little boy.
And watched the ideas converge gently in his innocence.
He felt a bit embarrassed.
But there was no one else around.
Just the two of them, father and son.
Spinning sky, clouds flying, thunder burst elastic evident.
Beaver tail slapping, fox and badger in cahoots.
Wolves visible on the distant ridge.
Calling out the Great Spirit via the mentor,
I Ching change visionary:
“Could I, after all the crazy car rides be…and the answer came, ‘It is favorable to cross the great water.’”
“My capacity to love is diminished by my proclivities to fear.”
Jonathan said, pausing thoughtfully.
They all wondered what would follow that bit a verbal loveliness.
And, frankly the rest was just more of the same not said quite as well.
The question on everyone’s mind was did he have someone, in particular in mind?
“Is Humor Death’s mother in law?”
Asked the Beat poet rhetorically.
Before we answer that, who is Death’s wife?
Logically, that would be Love.
And you have to feel for Death.
Always being told he’s not good enough,
not doing what he should for the family.
It’s a thankless job being the Grim Reaper.
Lovely, but not a terribly good kisser.
Bit of a vice grip disappointment, really.
She had other charms.
At the party, she pushed the chocolate cake into his face.
“You’re good for me”, she said.
He drove her car home.
Carried her up three flights to her room.
Tucked her in and sighed.
“I’m all in.”