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Continue reading →: Just a Poultry Encounter Part Two of Three. A Turkey Tail…Tale.
Thomm the talking turkey continues… “About a year ago my uncle Thommy went missing. Here one moment, gone the next. I was so fouled up and sadness accompanied my search for him. I wanted to pull my feathers out as I hopped and flapped over every square yard of the…
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Continue reading →: Just a Poultry Encounter Part One: A Thanksgiving Tail…Ahem, Tale
Highway hypnosis took over the minute I finished the on ramp to I-94 west. Destination: home. The back-end of the van sagged with holiday food which included not one, but two frozen turkeys. I scored a couple of fifteen pound weaklings. I felt like kicking sand in their faces, of…
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Continue reading →: Don’t Count Me Out
The pill I found awakened me like Robert Deniro. The dancing unfurled with you in hand and spectrums rose. Nerves had no end and struck like lightning and I was blind for a spell. A forty year reverse to when hiding and seeking was just a game.…
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Continue reading →: Lunar Liturgy
There hung languid thoughts toward borrowed light. My shawl dipped in the Red Sea draped on the tranquility. Above all breathable air, a distant prayer wrapped around your cold shoulder. I stood under the moon of tides. You buoy on the ocean of thin air and wash out…
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Continue reading →: Etch-A-Sketch: Lifeline. A Poem of connection.
My six-year-old held the whole world in her hands. It was flat, and grey dust magnetically clouded the possibilities. Then the etch. An itch scratched by turn, turn, turn. Two knobs drew an electrocardiogram. Up, down, back, and forth revealed a heartbeat, perhaps her own, perhaps Gods. Maybe it was…
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Continue reading →: Birds of Pray
On top of the pines they spoke in tongues and redressed cycled days. They walked upon the sky and intersected with wings aflame by the sun. It is an aviary of prayer of limitless tone. I am not alone. The field is an amphitheater catching and throwing the sounds…
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Continue reading →: Freedom and Dependency: Fraternal Twins
“Are you going to be okay without me?” “No.” Right before I leave for work I pop a question. It is always the same one with the same response. It is not that my wife can’t live without me. She is strong. She will survive. I can hear her singing…
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Continue reading →: Last Fall
Yellow tears drop from the ducts of maple skies. The fall cries in descending circles. Calm rains down, baptizes flared sorrow one on one then one. Trees rejoice, then weep in offering our golden silence.
Gerald the Writer 