“We’re domestic,” a
blonde woman tells her daughter
in line at the gate.
Double entendre overheard at LaGuardia
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“We’re domestic,” a
blonde woman tells her daughter
in line at the gate.
Flushing Meadows Park
once a site of hope. There, a
globe pledged future peace.
On a cluttered Queens
balcony he stands, watching
the complex decay.
Just over five months
This one four hundred fifty
Art or wasted time?
A haiku a day?
Not quite. Some days the tap runs,
some days it’s bone dry.
‘Beware!’ Caesar was
told. Like teens in horror films
he didn’t listen.
With all this trash talk
even the winner comes out
smelling like garbage.
see also Constant reader
Like a lover who
wanders I return here to
check in now and them
J9 can’t sleep since
her mother died stays up and
writes heartache in tears.
He drank to excess
so why am I the one with
the splitting headacne?