what on earth can equal a pair of red, red shoes! a flash of color with each step, a festival. like a heartbeat on the sidewalk, a steady pulse of look at me, look at me, look at me. cóż na świecie równać się może z czerwonymi bucikami! błysk koloru z każdym krokiem, święto. jakby… Continue reading the red shoes i wore, I
Written for Visual Verse, in response to a prompt: one image, one hour, 50-500 words (no editing). Falling is a skill left behind too early in our lives. We have the memory of early attempts at sitting, standing, stepping, walking. The memory is in the soft folds of our behinds, our chests, our hands. An… Continue reading Charmed
Why Foxes Have Black Feet
Long ago, there was a poor brother and sister who grew up at the edge of a large forest. They did not have much in the way of toys, but hardly had a need for them, as they spent most of their days playing in and around the forest. The forest had all the sights,… Continue reading Why Foxes Have Black Feet
how to feed a secret
in the shallow part of the sea, not far from shore, lived an eel. a young eel, slender, easily able to slip into the smallest of cracks. more of a hider than a seeker. one day he slipped into a small opening in an old coral, a hole no bigger than the tip of your… Continue reading how to feed a secret
<160 [PRAYER of no hiding]
there is something i must face:i will looki will stare hard.first one to smile wins.
it happened in the desert. the desert is a good place. you can’t get away from yourself and you certainly can’t belong. life is wet and the desert is dry. a hot wind rose and swirled around me, the folds of my ears shaping the silence into a whistle. the sand, the isolated clumps of… Continue reading another one
the sea is in the air and the salt is in a clump. i pump the shaker with all the vigor i can muster, but the clumps release just seven grains onto my dish. i’ll have to make those crystals count.with my attention on the salty, i had let the conversation slip by, they have… Continue reading isla margarita
how could we know whether they genuinely favored us, or if we were simply useful to them? we had dinner with them more frequently than with our friends; extraordinary japanese meals where no dish was repeated: yam gelatin, pork belly, matsutake mushrooms, mackerel sashimi, fresh homemade tofu. the drinks, on the other hand, were always… Continue reading dinner downtown
Before breakfast, the coffee must be poured. Two scoops of roasted beans in the grinder, a banshee in the corner transcribes the screeching and spitting of the blades. The contents are mangled into a soft, fine powder. Cold milk would never do, in its refrigerated state it has the power to change the taste of… Continue reading Before breakfast
what is yellow?
we’ve been trying to find out. is there really such a thing? itch that skin, sugar drop. walk like your thighs love spandex, chemical compound-laced threads smick-smacking through the tall, tall grass. what is alive and how do you wrap it around your wrist; yellow is the knot that won’t slip. it swings through, leaving… Continue reading what is yellow?