husky puppy in a lawnchair
shutter shades and a starter canon
mushroom cloud in the distance
driveway into a ghost town
ice tea empty; the last human brings a refill.
Writing, Ideas, & Stories
husky puppy in a lawnchair
shutter shades and a starter canon
mushroom cloud in the distance
driveway into a ghost town
ice tea empty; the last human brings a refill.
chances are
the next life
won’t remember this one;
fingertips leaving fingerprints on invisible walls
on a construction site
strangers pass over sewer pipes carrying messages
messages free of bottles and free of dismissal
free of happiness;
i created you
i.
like god with an atom
a sorcerer with a spell
a scientist with the elements
i gave you purpose;
with the swish of ink
with the words of centuries before, with the graceful eyes in my skill, and the hands dished from the pot of decades of molding-
this
is
mine.
it sleeps in my head
dodging bullets made of lead
we carry that blood,
but i gave you life-
your sluggish steps in my inner chambers
rattle while i rest
when you’re most upbeat
i am
down