Category Archives: Expressive Rhythmic Literary Work

The Wagon I sat in the front seat, she was driving. On a small back road we passed an Idaho farm. Mostly dust now, and Continue reading poem for Thursday…→

Nowhere to be. The crowd is closing in, grouping like a stockyard. Elbows are bumping, some hand grazed my hip. The air is getting thicker, Continue reading poem for thursday.→

He quit He told me once that he decided to quit smoking when he visited his father who had cancer in the hospital. He saw Continue reading He quit→

Recovery My pain is with me always. It is the last thing I feel before I fall asleep, and the first thing I feel when Continue reading Recovery→

Pump I’m standing around, killing the grass. A guy walks in the bike shop. I ask him how’s it going or some shit, if he Continue reading Pump→

Cold Lid This toilet seat lid is far from comfortable as I stare down at the patterns in the linoleum hall bath trying to reel Continue reading Cold Lid→

Our place in the world Does writing anything about it make it easier? I’ll answer that later I suppose. Or, at least, I hope I Continue reading Our place in the world→

Knock Sometimes you’ve got to knock life around, before it knocks you around. It’s one or the other. Him or me.

A sled My wife turned toward me the other morning asked me do you want to get our thing and see if it sleds? What Continue reading A Sled→

From: Fitty Subject: Friday Haiku I know that I’m not an “official” contributor, but… We drank with Leche He drank Bud, we drank Bourbon What Continue reading Friday Haiku→