Pocket Fiction


Published August 23, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments


I may have seen

through the fabric of the universe.

On the day of the solar eclipse,

I sat in meditation and felt

the metallic yin.

The moon cold and decisive as Ulysses’ sword.

It was the approaching night

that I would, thankfully, only witness.

But I saw it,

like a spectator in the coliseum,

the steel grey blades

that killed the gladiators.


63 words, I am forever free from 55. Now, it’s about how ever many words I need to say what it is I have to say.

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