Sunday Small Stone 32

purple fizz, pink shell
Ibuprofen liquified
_sweetening the smell

of the blue toilet tab
that smells like nothing
but itself

I love writing small stones.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Poem: First Kiss

one damp press, lip to lip and not
enough pressure for me to remember
dry or luscious texture

__________________and then nothing

two weeks later I said let’s
just be friends
in the library, I think

__________________and then nothing

until a week later—he left
a threatening voicemail; I remember
none of his words

my parents called the police

__________________and then nothing

__I do remember
__long dark hair
__his mohawk
__was usually
__limp

 

Enhanced by Zemanta

Sunday Small Stone 30

that gold light
doesn’t make
the old church tower new

or the office block before it
where the orange lift still stands
against the yellow-bandaged

plywood windows
in off-white walls

the autumn breeze
rattles blinds
and smells clean

I love writing small stones.

Enhanced by Zemanta