Guerillas

popcorn

GUERILLAS

After years of losing scores of kernels each time the VCR turned on, the popcorn made a pact that the next group would ensure that none after would go the route of exploding into unprotected starchy balls. In a burst of hot air, white puffs flew out of the kitchen directly at the video unit, through the reprehensible metal trap, until all one hundred and seventy three kernels were tightly packed into the source of their chaotic metamorphosis.

Returning from her room, Sally found the popcorn maker empty so went to the living room where she found her son Jason mesmerized in front of the popcorn-packed Panasonic. Drawing the wrong conclusion, Sally slapped Jason and sent him to bed.

Meanwhile, the popped corn huddled deeper, inadvertently disconnecting two wires, and waited with wide angry mouths for her fingers to enter.

Thank you to the editors of Quick Fiction for first publishing this flash.

Beautiful format, this great publication puts out fantastic flash twice a year: http://www.quickfiction.org/

Simultaneity

horse closeup

Simultaneity


When you touch me—I am

breath rather than a woman breathing.

One thousand wings, a single beat,

split sky with summer rain.

Breath rather than breathing

fills the empty glass.

Split sky with summer rain

to reveal horses carved in stone.

Fill the empty glass

with wine of roses, lilac, heather;

reveal horses carved in stone

but not hands that formed their symmetry.

With wine of roses, lilac, heather,

toast grass that fractures concrete blocks

but not hands that formed the symmetry

of streets concealing streams.

Toast grass that fractures concrete blocks

beside the woman reaching towards you;

on streets concealing streams

she begs for food, shelter beyond grasp.

There is a woman reaching towards you;

her face is old, possessions few,

as she begs for food, shelter beyond grasp,

and I see you, I see myself within her mask.

Her face is old, possessions few;

she came to laugh—she came to love,

and I see you, I see myself within her mask

reflecting how the earth breathes.

We came to laugh—we came to love;

one thousand wings, a single beat

reflecting how the earth breathes

when you touch me.

~ Thank you to the editors and staff at Screbendi http://scribendi.unm.edu/ for first publishing this poem.

Graffito

Graffito

Three distinct letters,

discrete as whispers
yet stark as sunrise,
stain this park’s
concrete wall.

S insinuates
the dark entrance,
secret from those
passwordless,
but once in, one
snakes along this
sinuous passage

toward E,
which sighs
like a wind-filled
cavern
in the fold of a word
so bare
it exposes the language of pores
opening like stomata
along nerve-laden skin,
of tongues probing
tasting moistening unveiling
revealing the voracious
pulse and press of pelvis
belly
even neck, bared
for the thin membrane of skin,
primordial as sound rising
from ancestral marrow
formed of molten rock and sky-filled sea

before X marks the space
within and between.

Thanks to the editors of  HOT FLASHES: sexy little stories and poems for first publishing this poem.

Hot Flashes

Left Coast Writers

photography-poetry-art-writer's-pose: creation as yoga