Graham's smoldering corner of the universe...

By gillfinn - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Here We Have

Alive now, I wonder when my minute will come. Concluding inheritance to the last right of life. It could be now, or five winters from. Capricious guesses wasting minutes. Cannot harvest the ones I’ve gathered, life’s a sieve, keeping what’s happened, from that which will be. What would I do? With... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Weak Week

Bowls of sun wreck my pupils tarnished teeth Jail my jittery tongue. Whoa. Almost slipped, feet feel as naked, as tight shoes. Hallway rocks, as though aboard ship. Damn. She still sleeps I’m sticky down there. Lucky me, Last night. Whoa. What a state I’m in. What state Am I in? Marylyn, my wife not... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Hotel

The heavy curtains fell like old hair. Stained and stiff, they hung in front of window eyes. Host to whores and lawyers, the beds of hotel had their clothes changed each day. The walls heard the fights after barrooms had closed. On other days, they corralled sleeping children while parents visited... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Magi Noir

I fought a foreign war and sailed aboard a ship in an unfamiliar sea. I found myself kissing the lips of a woman I had never known, while a black dog planted dagger fangs into the soft stems of roses, that fell from my hands, One night, one winter, when it snowed. I flew like a bird while friends... Sign in to see full entry.

Blue Canoe

At invitation from a voice in his head, passing a garrison of ants on the march, he took to the trail. On furlough from his wits. Down to blue canoe leashed to the willow it bounced on the last reach of shore. He released the leather leash collapsed in blue canoe hands as oars he paddled at lazy... Sign in to see full entry.

Bitter Sunday

Saturday was here. The day of churches was tomorrow. I was bitter for commands made from pulpits. Orders for the sinners stained glass jails jailed for an hour collection for absolution. Hypocrisy on high pretense have our blessing the body the blood our redeemer. Innocent we are but sinners in the... Sign in to see full entry.

Inauguration Day

The president’s men gather him. This day is locked down, The press has been praised. Handlers hustle special words have been fed. Heavily armored limousines in practiced precision sharpshooters dark suits filled with discipline. First lady powders secret doors close stems of fresh flowers slip... Sign in to see full entry.

Kings of Toots

We sat next to one another unsecretive, even loud in the dark of a bar called Toots. Sipping voraciously, and gesturing like Italians. We competed in consumption not on purpose but of need we trampled habit, daily, any hour celebration every hour, whiskey spirited away with promises for tomorrow of... Sign in to see full entry.

Ode to Cradle Farm

Now, the baby had been born. Tom Kit was his name, his hair was rugged brown. Tom Kit fell many times, in travels, on Cradle farm. He stole ants from the slate, while they where busy in their work. He pulled cat’s tail, not knowing she owned it, as it brushed by his nose one day. Young Kit, flushed... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Phone Sex

Who was I? To doubt what type of body was host to her honey voice? Expensive, yet necessary for my arousal. Those words across wires. Me, the innkeeper to her breach of breath, escaping her mouth, swallowed by my ear. Shallow satisfaction in the privacy of dark. A faceless voice connected to passion... Sign in to see full entry.

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