I say goodbye to the culture that raised me I have been chosen to be bread cc: Chagall 2021
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on my way inside I pass a furry bee busy by the screen door she is beautiful in sunlight I say Take care of things out here while I'm gone!
cc: Chagall 2021
…anyway…I still keep my nuts in the freezer…
cc: Chagall 2021
She would stand by the sink, washing dishes, smiling, and she'd shake the plastic covers quite violently by hand, to whip them dry, and I remember the wonderful sensation of being bombarded by tiny cold droplets of water about my body cc: Chagall 2021
sometimes I leave my sheet music outside overnight, not necessarily intentionally and it weathers the storm, especially when there's sunshine to warm it though some of the sharp creases over the years begin to resemble musical score, I have learned which notes to play, which not, and also when to rest or not to play at all the melody is what the melody is cc: Chagall 2021
she sets the table, beautiful porcelain plates not new, rather...relics from an old box of best wishes days of most promise a hope to gather people to imbibe life just two of us here now opposites, each other over-lit candles cc: Chagall 2021
small people in small towns leaning heavier on their horns nowadays so sad cc: Chagall 2021
Never, ever trust that the knife won't slip cc: Chagall 2021
she's a lonely lady lying afloat atop the lake she bobs, stares at clouds hears the cow-bell by the buoy tingle thoughts of sinking feels her back upon down pulled by a pillow or a bed wet all around... but instead she stands alongside shells by the shore checks the horizon, breathes deeply the moist air, not water this time cc: Chagall 2021
I am certain that the two young men working on my roof, are time-travelers ancient Teotihuacán I can tell by they way they align themselves to my garden's sundial cc: Chagall 2021
Alphabet City 