Unfinished Stories
Unfinished stories in the drawer
unfinished suicides
......"touch me make me cold"
I lie in the guest house counting pores in the face of sky
pores in the plaster of broken faces
..........I see her........pressed against the dashboard.
Cuffed to anti-destiny
I watch the stars call, fold unfold like wet laundry.
....................This world is an old world.
DNA in hoop & loop like earrings in the body
hooked & unhooked...........given circumstance.
I find a note he tucked under the door
in San Francisco: here's a five it says
get yourself a cup of coffee
.............................................unfinished notes.
I supposed I could have loved him.
What is that song? You can love anyone, it says.
..............O boy in the back of the pickup truck, blowing kisses.
..............They float like smokerings in the cold.
Silvery car from the car shop.
.......................It moves like a great boat
through the icy streets of dream
the swept-away wishes.
............................Nobody is guilty truly as nobody is
innocent...Take my hand.
We will wade the river. We will discover different horses.
............................................We will hang our laundry like scolding stars.
Carolyn Srygley-Moore's latest collection, miracles of the BloG: A series, is reviewed by co-editor, April Bratten in this issue's Literary Reviews. Please check it out!
Unfinished stories in the drawer
unfinished suicides
......"touch me make me cold"
I lie in the guest house counting pores in the face of sky
pores in the plaster of broken faces
..........I see her........pressed against the dashboard.
Cuffed to anti-destiny
I watch the stars call, fold unfold like wet laundry.
....................This world is an old world.
DNA in hoop & loop like earrings in the body
hooked & unhooked...........given circumstance.
I find a note he tucked under the door
in San Francisco: here's a five it says
get yourself a cup of coffee
.............................................unfinished notes.
I supposed I could have loved him.
What is that song? You can love anyone, it says.
..............O boy in the back of the pickup truck, blowing kisses.
..............They float like smokerings in the cold.
Silvery car from the car shop.
.......................It moves like a great boat
through the icy streets of dream
the swept-away wishes.
............................Nobody is guilty truly as nobody is
innocent...Take my hand.
We will wade the river. We will discover different horses.
............................................We will hang our laundry like scolding stars.
Carolyn Srygley-Moore's latest collection, miracles of the BloG: A series, is reviewed by co-editor, April Bratten in this issue's Literary Reviews. Please check it out!
