geegee
the rain cold feet in cold boots is everyone out on a valentine date? The dog shits and she doesn't even bother to stop long enough to bag it just keeps going and the video store guy gives her a lonely (but 80% best quality) bar of chocolate.
little black dog, ears drooped with trepidation, you shake and shiver when those big bastard trucks thunder by. Come on, untuck that glorious tail! Ears point . Nose goes. Squirrel. No alarm now.
o god, let my heart be a vase. Fragrances bursting, over flowing spectrums crazy bright, dripping dipping down, drying falling fading full again. Always full, always full.
I cannot commit myself to Thee.
Thou art but one man in the cauldren of Men, one heart as in an echo of hearts, one mind out of Mind.
To mine own self be true! to Thine own self be true! Thus do I commit myself.
Dragging dust tired feet, Max's tongue a long flag of exhaustion, eyelids like tanks. After miles of hot trails old Max was done and we were back in suburbia. Oblivious of the leash, weary, daydreaming.
"CONTROL YOUR DAWG!!!!!!! SQUACK! SQUACK!" Max's ears lifted, eyes registered, teeth rattled to life. The neighbour's cringing hate might as well have been a lasso.
His sniff was disapproving and a bit too deep, as if it were to be his last breath. That gawdawful bum was coming on the bus again! Already hot and crammed and with his luck falling like dominoes all day, the smell of dried piss and vomit was sure to end up right in his face. But wait. The sly line of commuters were deliberate and tight. When the door snapped shut he was pleased to see who was left on the grimy sidewalk.
She leaned into the window watching the little patch of fog growing and receding near her open mouth. "Goodbye," she breathed, watching the soft edge of her sorrow spread and beg for just one more drawn and forgotten heart.
It was early dawn when Charlotte came down the path dragging a bear cub by it's head. Charlotte was 5, eyes of ocean blue, a mess of golden hair a halo in the morning light, a grin as wide as the sky. The bear was bawling it's head off. "Look ma! A teddy bear, a teddy bear!" Close by maternal snout was just lifting a grubby scent out of the air when Charlotte's mother tornadoed out the door. She grabbed Charlotte with one hand and with the other whirled the cub back up the path.
Order was everything. She'd fallen carefully in love, married well, had 2.5 children. In turn they too loved, married, bred. What then was this wreckage, this dismay, like a disarrayed train heaped in the pit of the night?
a chaos of sun-dripped poppies, happy heavy legged bees buzzing the honeyed air, the air itself a ripple of oceanic balm: my garden.
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