Friday, December 21, 2012


The Mayans said it first, but 
tea leaves said it second, her palm
said it third, and the boy 
down the road, the one with the blue,
blue eyes, said it fourth.

The world was going to end and she 
could not be happier. 

Her affairs were easy to arrange:
money sealed into envelopes,
the microwave unplugged, and one
last kiss for the blue-eyed boy.

She called her mother, 
and her mother did not answer. 
(But she did not expect her to.)

That evening she hid beneath 
a blanket with her dog and told stories
about the good times and the bad times
(but mostly the bad times, and how
now there would never have to be
bad times ever again).

Then she went to bed, heart lighter 
than light, winged with hope, 

and woke up crying.

Monday, December 10, 2012

1. turn on radio.
2. hear the the following lyrics: She’s in the Class A Team/Stuck in her daydream/Been this way since 18/But lately her face seems/Slowly sinking, wasting/Crumbling like pastries”
3. turn off radio.
just because you can use a simile doesn’t mean you should.