In a misguided
effort I peeled off half my
face and left the hair.
Face waxing
Reply
In a misguided
effort I peeled off half my
face and left the hair.
Bloody mess of a
play that has you laughing at
clots of gore and death.
“Meaning glistens.” Or
“meaning listens.” Or perhaps
it’s “meaning lessens.”
I stop posting in
the blogosphere. No one reads
me. Do I exist?
Nothing pleases me.
Time I don’t have to account for.
A blank calendar.
Today was her last
day on a job I said ‘don’t
quit’ two years ago.
Some people like to
cook. Then there’s me who dreads that
thing called dinner hour.
“Have you been writing
your haiku journal?” he asked.
You read. You know ‘no.’
With short hair he looks
like a grey human baby.
He’ll never talk back.
Intention shines high
above like a star I see
and dream of reaching.