Tagged: poetry

we were in the car,

we were in the car,
listening to The Cranberries,
like every third or
twenty-third newly and
nearly newly coupled,
lovestruck or not yet
requited, waiting
to grow older
while sitting
in the parking
lot of the universe –
Dolores felt like forever
.
20180116:0017
y

Advertisements

in about an hour,

in about an hour,
the sun will come in just so, a
bent wave glancing off

a new city prism – witchcraft
costing an arm and a leg
.
20180114:0658
y

between here and there

four days later, you

as with everything,

every third door is

it’s a lot of work