"A...

...solitary instance furthers, falls…”

through thoughts that remember the quick step of quit, thinning out identical undergrowth, leaving pick-me-ups to shake distant fists.

App eal

A single-sided crowd bids for the other

pooling a dip in their undulation

teasing dual fascination apart

Aftertaste

Yesterday, creased along midday, slides off the tongue.

Spurs-of-the-moment

Shoving all limits in the closet, she washed wonder down
with a tolerant brew: part tea, part not;

part thirst-haste, distraction quencher.

Before ground struck the thriving steps
swept under carpet’s enchantment.

10+’s Lover

We are two ones: attaching
a restless power to victory
barely resolving to kick
discontent in the meaning.

Like asking a bombshell to reduce shock
or trim the other cheek.

From one cool scene to a sinking silhouette
a faint ticking
hears background noise
as we line up to launch entertainment
and suspend refuge until humour stops staring.

, smearing the ‘a’ in caution

blurs the abandoned guard, leaving any slip of the anointed one open to manipulation

…a narrow escape, is only a replica

Character transfer, repeat after me: carbon carbon…

Lend me two frauds, a double agent, and a can-con-phony

(quite a quartet to slide the tuba tones)

and I’ll slip you imitation.

Stealing the blush from your sunset

Green and go, in all its departing glory
will face flush again
when level reverts to level
and reading backwards retires.

Do away with the evening of yourself, because if you keep setting, I won’t be able to see you anymore.

TaKinG thE BriM__ TooK thE BrOoM

I’ve been invited over to Taking the Brim – thanks Clifford!

Otoliths

Issue three of Otoliths, edited by Mark Young, is now live. I’m excited to say that I have two poems included.

Settling up with today <<<<

‘yes’ - always noticeable when reimbursed with no

The stamina of revolving doors

turning backs on the dizzy heights of
existence – out/in: equals in orbit

42/b descendent of 99 - here & 42/a is here

Blinds & Patience

parting over delay
long shade relies

on enough setting
of up chalked

marks with themselves
colourfully cracked

/I drew you in pastel hues that didn’t suit your complexion and when the snap came, it was too much to expect reliability from a sketch/

“before distance calls time…” by Glint & Fade - here

The 7 o’clock itch: scratch it and tick.

Transpiring from here

“…commonsense misses its mark when struck by the flamboyance of restraint…”

Think about commonsense on its starting blocks: ready with some sound rationalizations, to run the distance with logic. Ready, steady, think. The lavishness of possibility or the egg and spoon attitude: boiled at a price.

“…to unfasten their reflections in an attempt to lose track of their arrival…”

When you look in the mirror, who sees you?

“And yes, when you fall on hard times, you will still have brown hair and act as if you’ve lost the script...”

J: Has anyone seen my wig?
A: It’s massaging your brain.

“Bend eleven restless rulers into one…" ( transpiring from here)

In my experience rulers don’t bend that easily, but there is a technique to try. First soften your ruler with sweet talk, flattery gets you everywhere when it comes to measuring, then gradually arch over a curved surface: in the name of dimensions, of course. If that doesn’t work, crack the ruler in half on your knee; impatience may not prove anything, but if nothing else, at least it bends experience.

“…uncover that polished comic…”

Shiny humour: laughing at daylight.

“For the sake of string, tie up more laces.”

Yes, you can use string to draw boot edges together, if laces themselves are tied up, but remember, in making music with each step, not to pluck on more than you can hear.

Sidebrow

The Letters Project - Reviving the epistolary novella

Read my creative responses Halt & Hither to the work of Carrie-Sinclair Katz at Sidebrow the online & print journal dedicated to innovation and collaboration.

Strange jottings lift
overturning edges that vertically avoid
tip-toeing to sound
out white.

(When unsaid is left internally repeating, echo backs itself.)

A washed-out certainty
steps up visibility, to only seem clouded
and yet be otherwise
available.

“.. this odd illegible flaw… capsizes my vital difference…”

Using the usual blot doodling… upends a lively mixture
of p to b, where plot thins and character wilts after bailing out of the story-telling dinghy just before epilogue. On page 49 soggy prose reads: sleeveless buoyancy: a jacket for life.