I had some down time from my major projects this afternoon so I wrote the next installment of Farmstead; I hope you enjoy it! If you have questions about what it is I do here, check out this page, or contact me here. Click here to see all Farmstead related posts. — Act I Scene II They were entangled, tucked in the corner of the hay loft, like folded hands; this knee grinding into the...
Farmstead
Here is the start of a new periodical. I hope you enjoy! If you have questions about what it is I do here, check out this page, or contact me here. — Act I Scene I I wake up early on Fridays because Fridays are when we milk the cows and the colostrum is fragrant and bubbles in my nose. I drink half a glass, then Mr. Tiller drinks a half. “Labor to labor,” he says and squeezes another glass...
River valley river—a stream of consciousness exercise.
Hello you. I’m about to wind down for the night and as a cool-down lap I decided to let myself do a stream of consciousness session for about two minutes. Enjoy! — River Valley River Low sod mosses tomb stones; bay bridges hedged with communion hay. Hey! Don’t step on the yellow petaled flowers that grow along the river. Do not throw the works of skill into this vein. Watch it meander...
Pillards pleas along with his girlfriend were laughed out of the pub by attentive mid-day patrons.
Here is a prompt I wrote this afternoon. Enjoy! — Prompt: A quick encounter. — “Holy crap Pills, that’s three IPAs in an hour,” Jake said. “Didn’t you smoke a huge bowl with Jenny before we came?” Pillard threw up his elbows, sniffed his armpits, and raised his eyebrow. “Do I smell like weed?” “Hah, I don’t know man, I don’t smoke.” “He doesn’t!” Jenny sat up from the polished pub...
People say I don't talk—I talk plenty. People just don't give me a way in.
Prompt: Jennifer is lonely. — I drop the bent tin lid into the empty can of chicken and close the sandwich. I smell it before I bite it. Smells like Mondays. The crowd is the same. The table is full of the nameless and uncategorized. Farthest from me and the vending machines, the serious academics sit with their pens whipping their textbooks in time with the mechanical drums in their...
Misfiring neurons manipulated the meat and bone it left behind.
Prompt: write a scene that moves through description. — The whole world was yelling at me. I was by myself. I was wearing my blue shoes and yellow shorts. I always wore a black shirt. I had tons of them but people thought I only had the one. Sometimes that was funny, sometimes it was frustrating. I wasn’t wearing my glasses then—this was before September. The thin membrane of my inner ear...
I'm going to kiss you, Willie Brown, If I get out of this.
Here is a quick prompt based on a Robert Johnson tune. — Prompt: Crossroads — I went down to the crossroad and fell to my knees. I asked the Lord above, “Have mercy on my trespass; I do wrong. But do not take me on your day Lord.” An old chicken wagon passed. He didn’t even look my way. I’m going to kiss you, Willie Brown, If I get out of this. Ain’t...
Ruth of the Railway Station
Here is short sketch I put together for you. Enjoy! — Whoever has happened to pass through Turgenev Railway Station prior to 2009 will have seen her. Even if they don’t remember, she was there. On the day I met her, I had just missed the last train to Albuquerque. “It’s only three,” I said. The cashier scratched his mustache, shifted on his feet, and looked to his...
I sat to write a poem of Amicus my newborn son … then I realized I'd rather behold him for hours.
Amicus Lucero – 2/9/13
The creature's screams chill Maggie's bones as she descends the mountain stones.
Here is a prompt I wrote this morning. Enjoy. — Prompt: The creature. — Maggie drove the spear fist-deep in the creature’s chest, twisted it, and tore it out. The creature howled; stalagmites trembled around them. Maggie retreated, crouching low and facing the creature. “Enough…” it said. Steam escaped the wet wound under its hand. “Enough, I’ll go …...