The statue of limitations on how long she can love him has run out, she thinks. She thinks? She thinks: Beware those who provoke you to write poetry. She wrote «statue» meant «statute», statue’s…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
The Sun on the Very Clean Tile
— My eyes are dates in water, my neck hair kicks up from cold air; the doctor is listening to me breathe on her padded table. When she touches me, I feel curled into…
Klickitat Haiku by Scott Starbuck
— That can’t be my hat on the stone by the river. There’s gray hair in it. —
When You’re Broke and No One Loves You by Cassidy J. Hodges
— You never could play guitar, voice like the disapproving clicking of 27 tongues. Everything was covered in dirty fingernails and you never slept. Afraid vultured constellations would pick through your quiet parts and…