From creative challenge

Winter darkening, waiting

Midnight owled past on a cloud drift, snowploughed high, never rumbled to let me know. No text no call no hoot. It is the weather they say. It dampens the transmissions, makes them crash to the powdered shroudfields lost among flakes. After, I wait at the window, my face an aldis lamp of random messages…

Neon Love

Locked out, again. Neon didn’t bother pounding on the door. She leant her auburn ions against its flaking paint. Her body buzzed with electric sorrow. He had no idea how much energy she’d put into being who he wanted. Before he mooched into that lab, smelling of unlaundered clothes, bits of half-chewed chewing gum sticking…

Trying to Explain Why I Am Not Sad

that my dad is dead – and it’s not because he hit me or worse, in fact he barely touched me at all, or ever said anything personal, though he was full of dictums (he who has the gold makes the rules) and knee-slappers (too long to fit into a poem – how he coughed…

Wake

days without coffee golden and gripping in the wake of nights late with talking mist makes morning matter hills flatter, fatter, blurs the background like a photograph where you, only you mattered days of should and shouting, doubting the grass that should not be blue the sky that should not be red bed the only…

The Truth Teller

He was telling his wife how much he loved her, when his dog suddenly said, “Bullshit.” This wasn’t the first time Scott’s dog, Max, had expressed this sentiment. There was the time they were leaving the pet store, after Max had just been groomed. Max greeted his owner happily, tail wagging, full of kisses. “I…

My Girl

He was looking for a girl in green. Actually, he was looking for a woman in green. A “girl” made her sound like a twelve-year-old, and Sam would be twenty-three in a week. But Jake called her “my girl” all the time, like The Temptations song. And he sang that song to her, too, whenever…

Pockets of Continuity

Edit contact: Jen Delete Yes No No 36 years old, I can’t believe you are gone. I found your obituary on the Internet after googling to see what you were up to, not having been in touch for a while. Edit contact: Mum Delete Yes No No Five years And I still can’t do it.…

It

Miriam made eggs when I asked for eggs. “To make you feel healthier,” she said. Miriam cleaned the house when I asked her to clean the house. “To make you feel healthier.” Miriam sewed buttons and hemmed pants when I asked her. “To make you feel healthier.” Miriam drove me to work and played music…

On/Off

A flute, a base, a bare Edison – love at first sight. He paid sticker price without hint of a haggle, and the dealer gladly took his cash, wrapped it in paper then a plastic bag. It would be perfect with the rest of his collection – a green-and-gold banker’s, wood with woven shade, liquor…