Friday, June 28, 2013

Weekly Worded

    The Bipolar Expedition

  “We should have left an hour ago!”
  “What’s the point, it’s not like we’ll be the first to arrive.”
  “I spent a week organizing this trip.  You said you wanted to go.”
  “I don’t remember using the word ‘wanted’.”
  “Come on, get those shoes on, let’s boogie.”
  “My feet hurt.”
  “But that’s your favorite pair.”
  “These feet are my only pair.”
  “I’ll buy you two mocha lattes on the way out of town.”
  “My ulcer is acting up.”
  “You don’t have an ulcer, it’s indigestion.”
  “My indigestion is acting up.”
  “Why don’t I stop at the emergency room on the way out of town?  A few quick tests, maybe a prescription we can pick up at a drive-thru window as we’re heading out.”
  “I hate the paperwork.”
  “I’ll fill it out, I know more about you than you do.  Maybe they’ll give you a jolt of Ambien.”
  “I’d rather have Xanax.”
  “Okay, we’ll ask for it by name, get a month’s supply, screw the generics, you’re worth it, but let’s get moving.”
  “Can we get something for motion sickness?”
  “Anything, whatever you need, even a porter to carry you to the car.”
  “You know I’m uncomfortable with strangers.”
  “I’ll carry you to the car!”
  “Really?  What about your back?”
  “I’ll back the car through the picture window, load you using the fulcrum of your recliner, then wrap you in a blanket for padding and warmth.”
  “Is it supposed to be cold?”
  “At this pace, glacial.”

Friday, June 21, 2013

Weekly Worded

    To the West Wind*

Sitting on tinder,
the sun shining bright.

Not sure where we’ll
be sleeping tonight.

Forced evacuations,
grab what we can.

The air white with ash
like winter again.

Smoke clouds the skyline,
slurry falls like rain.

Hopes for containment
predicting no gain.

O blow wild West Wind,
like ghosts we disperse.

Lives may be salvaged,
memories are cursed.

                         *Thanks to New Verse News,
                           where the poem first appeared

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Flash Mob launched today!

 Flash Mob Cloud

Take a look at this digital mob, which includes my entry -- all flash fiction stories gathered into one space, hundreds of stories, all for your reading.  What a great plan, to bring an international crowd of writers together, sharing their quick fiction fix.  Click on the link below, and follow any thread you care to follow.

For the next two days (and well beyond) the mob will be raging. Jump in and dance, comment, stomp, share, etc. Tomorrow the short list will be announced and the following day (June 22) the winners will be feted. 

Friday, June 14, 2013

Weekly Worded

                         -- photo by Larry Viscount

  Time Travel at the Cemetary

Like the twin beds
you shifted from our room

after we’d left home,
these graves remind me

of your unspoken rule,
how passion shouldn’t interfere

with a good night’s sleep.
So here you are, so quiet beneath

your stone comforters,
husband and wife, father

and mother, soldier and spouse,
an efficient arrangement,

everything in its place,
the dates stark and clear

to be read by me
from this distance, remembering.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Weekly Worded


It’s too far if all you do
is think about starting. 

The trillium blossoms
fold themselves up
like paper cups, having spilled
every drop of daylight.

Each minute the braille
of another perfect print
in the mud, every wild thing
announcing itself. 

This planet unfolds in your head,
a compost of remembrances, unread.