Look for new poems (and more) at the start of each month.
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An adamant and untitled quatrain.
How can we be when all the being’s done for us?
How can we do when all the doing’s denied?
Arms in the air, running full tilt toward.
Fuck the ideologies. Let’s have a world.
Just a sweet little sprout of a poem here.
Here I stand, planted and ready to disburse.
Inclement weather aside,
the day seems rife and potent, thick with leaves.
I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,
trembling with scent as if my solid stance
belies the force within. As if my trembling
becomes my flesh and bloom. Where will I go,
what will I bring when that bright hour
spills me into being?
What the heck is this? I don’t know!
4:04 in the
something or another
4:04 and it’s
not going anywhere
because tock tock
A spankin’ new piece of flash fiction that definitely coincides with this August’s Home Page theme of Secrets.
He’s random and a stranger but you’re curious so you shadow him for blocks to see what strange things he might do, and he walks quite a ways, then stops, walks a bit further, and stops, stands in the shade himself for a minute, the day has grown quite hot and he walks into a store and returns with a bottle of water, you wish you’d gone into the store but you were afraid, what might he have done in there, anything strange now went unseen, he might have shuffled the candies, played with the gum, fingered a donut, pocketed something you’ll never know what, you’ll never know, so he opens the bottle and sips at the water, walks on, closes the bottle, walks, opens the bottle, sips more and leaves it open, sips more and leaves it open, all the while walking, the sun is bright but he hasn’t a hat, why does he not have a hat on a scorching day, he walks in the sun and sips at the water, sips at the water, closes the bottle and sets it down alongside a building, it’s one quarter full and he leaves it there, there’s a strange thing, maybe not, still seems odd, who’s going to take it, somebody might, you stand there looking but he’s gone ahead, he’s quite up the walk and now you might lose him but don’t want to clue him by hastening, you walk on, he walks on, you walk on, he stops, you keep walking, he stands, you keep walking and wonder if you might surpass him, he turns to his right and walks into a market, you follow him in this time, what else to do, and of course you might witness some oddness, some strangeness, but what if he sees, what of it, you’re just walking too, now you’re here in the market, both of you, but for different reasons, you to observe him, he to do what, you don’t know, presumably to purchase what, you don’t know, you gather your wits and conjure a strategy, gazing at pretzels, gazing at crackers, it’s not a big market just two meager aisles surrounded by coolers and freezers, you gaze at detergent trying to look like you’re looking for something while finding a spot to observe what he’s doing, when all that he’s doing is staring at mangos, standing and staring, unblinking, unmoving, what is he doing he’s staring at mangos, strangely, oddly, normally, who knows, and now you’re staring at him staring at mangos, possibly for minutes but likely for seconds, you’re staring, he’s staring, he notices you staring and falters his reverie, you turn away and grab the nearest item, a bottle of water, in fact it’s the same kind that he had been drinking, how odd, but you grab it and head for the counter, he’s there right before you buying his mango, pays deftly and exits relief as it is without looking your way, you fumble with bills for your unforeseen purchase, complete the transaction and exit yourself, look left then right and catch him just turning a corner, you walk toward the corner, open the bottle and sip at the water, walk, sip at the water, walk, sip at the water, the day is quite warm still and you’ve been walking for some time, you sip at the water, get to the corner and turn and start down the block, glance down the block and there’s no sign of him, no sign anywhere, again a relief, and what matter, you don’t know him any more than when you started, not really, you don’t know him at all, do you really know anyone, you walk and breathe deeply, walk and breathe slowly and deeply, sip at the water, walk and breathe slowly and there he is, just ahead on your right on a stoop in the shadow, sitting contentedly eating his mango, you’re going to pass him and there’s nothing for it, nothing to do except walk, you’re approaching, he looks up, you smile, what else to do, he stands with the mango as you reach the stoop, jangles his keys in his other hand and says with a smile, “Care to come in?”