Tag: writer

skeletons fighting over a bone (20160911)

crow8 Comments

the sound of scraping
a spoon in a bowl
like when the ice cream is gone
or we’ve run out of guacamole
but we still have chips

[i’ll eat it off my fingers
if i run out of chips
but chips are so dry if the guac is gone]

where where where
from where does that scraping
sound emanate
bone on bone in the hip
the elbow
the teeth grinding
jaw popping
knuckles straining
and trailing on concrete
like the ape-man we are

it’s just
why does it have to sound like
an edgeless knife
dragged across a desiccated thigh bone

ancient awakes (20160908)

crow9 Comments

listen

you can hear it if you are quiet
but you have to shut your mouth
at least for a few minutes
at least
until it has time to
awaken
time to stir
to take in a breath
after centuries of sleep
beneath fathoms of ocean
deep enough to crush you
like an empty forty

listen

its voice is like long acrylic nails
skipping down a blackboard
on the first day of school
it’s saying your name
a whisper if that’s possible
you keep talking so that
you don’t have to hear it
but you’ll sleep
and then you’ll

listen

spin (20160907)

crow12 Comments

feeling emptied out
and useless
as in the definition
to be of no use
without merit

someone spin the
prayer wheel
i don’t know which
sutra is printed
on it
but hopefully
it helps

sandalwood and amber resin
enough to make you sleepy
enough to make your heart
roll like a baseball
in your empty rib cage

om shanti shanti shanti
(here kitty kitty kitty)

physics 101 (20160906)

crow5 Comments

if you were to survive
falling into a black hole
the experts tell us
–and by experts i mean
neil degrasse tyson–
you would be spaghetti-fied
stretched from the edge
of the even horizon
all the way to the center
of that dark star

it might take forever
to reach the singularity
and who knows if you would feel it
pain is information
and information stays stuck
on the inside of horizon
and time stands still
or seems to
on the outside edge

all my assumptions
about you
are just hawking radiation
boiling out into space
maintaining a screwed up
sense of equilibrium

we can’t make contracts
with the devil
to prevent the heat death
of the universe
we’re already rushing away
from ourselves at the speed
of light

what we didn’t take (20160905)

crow11 Comments

something gentle as rain
falls on us
something like grace
something like whispers

it patters and puddles
at our feet
spreading like shadows
spreading like sunrise

our pockets are filled
with crumbs
maybe from cookies
maybe from cakes

we leave the umbrellas
unopened
we leave the coats
at home

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Cake

dental hygiene (20160903)

crow17 Comments

the backs of my teeth
are rough
rough enough to make
my tongue tip bleed
from brushing against
them

it’s too bad because
i had so much to say
and now blood
dribbles down my chin
when i try to speak

you ask
what did you do to get
the backs of your teeth
so screwed up

i tell you through
lips coated in pink
froth
it was the words
that hammered against them
while i clenched my jaw
held my peace
the acid of every word
i forced myself to swallow
staining them
eating away at them
making them sharp
and hollow
like dead coral

full disclosure (20160902)

crow11 Comments

of course since we are in the business
of promoting the public good
we believe in complete transparency

no no no–i don’t mean full disclosure
whatever gave you that idea
our secrets are our own and we

will gut you and your family to keep
from exposing them to the light of day
it’s not as if we want you to die in a fire

but there it is and there you are

by transparency we mean that we are in
the business of taking on the role of your
parents guardians in absentia as it were

guiding you molding you and turning you
into us because we’re the public
and that’s good