Stepping Out

My second first steps are like a walrus in stilettos. Quick, slow, quick, quick, slow. Jelly legs buckling at the knees. There’s a picture on the wall of a Caribbean sunset as if I might just waltz off into it. Slow, quick, quick. Phantom sand between my toes. No...

Five Painful Memories

1. Two men in splattered white coats are slaughtering a Velveeta. It screams and screams and screams. Its voice unravels like a yellow stocking thread. I am choking. One man holds a giant gleaming hook with a wooden handle. They are smoking cigars. I run home and...

What Art Thou To Me

To be honest, I may not be much better than an insect, masturbating while my son cries himself to sleep. What art Thou to me? Twists of cirro -stratus, wisps and twists, a string of geese unraveling below the moon’s better half, nothing stationary. You cut in and out,...

From the seat/ Cricket clock bus

From the seat That night, at that point of time, three sounds: a cricket, a clock and a moving bus Cricket: End of the year agony or entertainment or just a competition? There may be a paramour nearby, a boyfriend. So, will she fall in love with a mosquito?  Is...

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