Tag Archives: October

empty theater his first cup of coffee and first two cigarettes

scraps of traffic cone shredded florescent bits miscalculation

Casually I leafed through the sheaf of papers death certificate

a pumpkin glowing three flights up as I walk through a darkened alley

the cracked glaze on the edge of the vessel a ring in a sawn-off branch

born with his and born with hers and born to typecast every face we see

an eddy of sand visible against his black robes sparkling jetstream

suddenly it’s warm again capri pants and flip flops again hell no

damp sidewalks, slick leaves old man cautiously making his way across them

so ready to buy what we have no use for and unable to stop