myownmuse

Paint stories with your cards The cups spilled over into the bay The swords are all stuck in the sun And the fool has lost her virginity The tower is tumbling upwards Over that self-righteous justice While the wheel of fortune laughs Into the face of the moon Don't come into the house There's no place to put your shoes Besides, they're all down at the bar Throwing back drinks in all their glory You're a mystery with red lips Waiting in the backyard for the dogs The clock hands spin past that ocean Between the edge and the hour hand

The little girl with the sandwich bag drops cookie crumbs down the storm drain while singing, "Here's some for you Gramma, since you got washed away."

     The wet ridge flows and falls near the span. The wet makes the wood dark and weak. I cross the span on bare feet with my tough soles. The stiff skin bends on the rocks and grass as I walk next to the trees.     The bark peels off in my hands and it sits in my palm. I watch the wood die in my hands. Then I crane my head back to search the branch sky. Fade the blue and add streaks of dull brown. Mix it with hints of spring green high in the sky. Buds of red and faint pink poke their keen heads past the branch out in to the air. They show how to be full of life and drink the sun.     My feet sink in the foam of moss. Scant sun to reach

    A sister and brother swung on the swing set in the back yard, and each reached the opposite apex at the same time she stared at the ground while the wind floated secrets upon the current.    The brother said, don’t the swings like it when we push them into the sky, and skip through the air with eyes that glitter in the buttercups?    I am the minute hand tallying the hours of uselessness, said the sister. The brother said, does all grass die around our feet from the colors in our soles that blind the photosynthesis into hibernation down in the dirt to the upside down anthill?    I am building a tumbling clock tower where the n

Paychecks and bills Accruing loans Political parties Browsing apartments Full-time jobs Spontaneous plans Housing deposits Term papers Jam sessions Cigarette butts All-nighters Philosophical debates Cranberry vodka Miles from home New friends Balanced tuition Summer breaks Going insane

Entropy takes everything away Nothing is left but in the time it takes to create Something becomes the other without thought It changes faster than a blink yet it remains the same Same face, different appendages Those fingers turn into dreams of life Images of empty children searching for everything The search is in vain because everything dissolves upon the tongue It tastes like oranges bakes in the sun Yet it is not the sun you see It is the star that germinates inside the stomach Pulsing through the veins, eliminating the whiteness in your cells It scours the soul until the edges are clean Though the entirety is stil

She spreads the white icing with precision but never too thin. Round the outside, the butter knife slides over the layers, coating the cake. Therapy for the heckled woman welding the dull blade on the pure sugar. Her wrist curves, bends to the variations in contour. Changes position, adds more icing. Sides are done, moves to the top to continue. Sweeping, back and forth to completion, then inscribes a name for the recipient. Returns to the tub of the icing, some remnant spoon lick but it is finished. The empty tub is scraped clean and buried in the trash