the rush of days
Monday, March 24th, 2014Flowers went unsmelled,
sunsets unobserved, meals un-
appreciated.
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Flowers went unsmelled,
sunsets unobserved, meals un-
appreciated.
• • •
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The first hint of spring
draws out the easily burned
and the slightly daft.
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The red kite stumbled
into the currents, half by
breeze, half by kid dash.
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Indiscreetly they
spill vivid lurid details
with mock air of shame.
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Live at the expense
of others. Find your way from
the top to the top.
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He combed his thick hair
with steady strokes, counting the
steps till coffee time.
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The sort-of baker
greased the pan and mixed the stuff
for near-complete treats.
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The mower clacked on
top of weeds and tufts in search
of ambitious foes.
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Arrogance and his
brother ignorance bilked the
townspeople at will.
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She warned of visions
of unhappy emoji
in disharmony.
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Of all the kinds of
pie I’ve tried, my favorite
is all of the kinds.
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The witch speaks of a
place where neighbors help neighbors
and hipsters rate pubs.
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The married spinster
bore no children, save for her
pets Rancor and Deceit.
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One wrong click could send
the rocket to the sun or
tweet from the wrong brand.
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“The cosmos is all
that is, or ever was, or
ever will be.” Peace.
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