windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Month: April, 2006

boundaries

one tiny off-white rose for each new story and spring is hardly just begun a friend steps back and savors the sprawling bush while the critics find the flaw in each petal

red hair

her face was paler than her foundation. “he had a wristband, like he’d just been released from the hospital, and he was randomly taunting people, acting crazy, and then the train was coming, and he tried to push this guy in front of the train, and luckily, people near them reacted quickly, and jumped him.” […]

with stars

the evening’s clear. wisteria gilds the gates, expectant, like the thought that in some mail truck, over town, there waits your book of poems from a friend

free stuff

a flourishing potted tree, decorated with tiny foil-wrapped gift boxes. a rotting gourd, squirrel-bitten, and carefully placed atop a fence, peppered with ants

leaf shower

the roses that i’d placed on the mantel didn’t know whether to bloom or rot so they did both at once, black-spot and yellow mold decorate the apricot petals