Tag Archives: October

Before she closes the door she carefully checks her phone. Nothing new.

a stripe of light on the dark shining pavement outside the diner

this day will end just not any earlier than usual is all

he at one end of the couch, i at the other between us a gulf

the desk drawer is strangely ajar revealing a dead address book

so they warily circle one another while the issues slumber

a fedex truck is blocking the entire street driver needs coffee

John Cage played Satie four hundred sixty times and that was Vexation

lukewarm glass of gin with sad little slice of lime ain’t no martini

tiny feet and hands move slowly across the green hairy leaf, silent