I can’t stop thinking … … how I was the fastest girl in fifth grade until you moved to town. Mr. Hickman made us race - just us two - in a 440-yard dash. Not much of a dash for me. I petered out on the third curve, and you smoked. my. butt. I never… Continue reading I can’t stop thinking
Tag: poetry
Smells of Bangkok
SewerNot dull sewer today, eitherPermeating sewerInfested my nostrils as I stepped out the doorLaundry soapFresh. Woodzy. Bushezzz. Alllll the way down the soiBoom! Khao man gai around the corner That’s boiled chicken with riceAnd it smells even better than it tastesCow. Man. Guy.Funny how words can smell, tooSometimes better than ... whewWhatever that wasFollowed by… Continue reading Smells of Bangkok
The cemetery man
Nobody thinks of the cemetery manThe guy who digs the graves by handSometimes warming the brittle groundBefore one by one, he can shovel a mound He measures by yard stick to follow the lawThough he can now eyeball the box he must drawHe lays out the side guards and pounds in the tapesThen cracks the… Continue reading The cemetery man
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