there’s the neon lights and the signs of passed deities
blessing me twice in the gloom illuminating my grazed knees
shaking pillars under a temple that is nowhere to be seen
or heard in the disordered symphonies of the after hours
Every morning, I heard the blue jay singing
and I sang with her. She waited for me
on her branch when I went to school and
we spent the day together. We were always
together, no matter what happened.
A full moon rising on a misty night,
Through the stained-glass windows,
A ray of light
illuminates the high altar where
Lucifer stands, waiting for me in his black tunic
14th November
Dear Diary, today is my birthday, and you were gifted to me by Amalia, my friend -if you can call her that, because I am not sure how long you must know someone to give her a special designation. I am very happy. Even if mom said, she was sorry she couldn’t visit me on my special day, because of the snow. She is afraid of driving in the snow, or maybe she is afraid of seeing me again.
Wavy thoughts come and go, some like a river,
Some like a storm, most keeping me drenched,
While others barely quench the thirst that I
Suffer most of the time, but it isn’t suffering,
The Speaker’s Mother:
“Hey ma’, sorry to get you out of bed.”
“What happened sweetheart?”
“Leo and I went to the movies tonight and something awful happened.”
“Your two are alright?” Lauren’s husband had woken up and she put the phone on speaker mode.
August that year had sneaked inside the house disguised as a storm. A massive, wild Sunday morning storm. Mrs. Jones was annoyed. She was going to have to postpone her garden party. Everyone in the neighborhood knew her for her parties, and she couldn’t have been any prouder. Once a month, she would wear her brand-new flower dress and she would invite all of her best friends and worst enemies to stuff them with lemonade, mango punch, tiny sandwiches impaled by tiny parasols, deviled eggs, fancy goat cheese on fancy fig concoctions, and rose-shaped vegetables.