Rockmallow

Posted on November 19, 2009 by riverwriter

The fever has him sliding on the edge
of large and small: eyeballs have pinball irises
thumbs are gargantuan.
He shrinks inside his body
until he is a pin
inside a mushroom
inside a dome on Continue reading →

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hurry, hurry

Posted on November 18, 2009 by riverwriter

Christmas decorations are arising in the stores,
ready to do battle for the custom of the hordes
of children and their parents who arrive all glad and jolly,
but leave in tears much later, tempers thorned like Christmas holly.

Why is it that we start this fight so early in November?
The day they’re getting ready for occurs in late December.
Of course there are two sides to this, Continue reading →

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negative space

Posted on November 17, 2009 by riverwriter

Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away
—William Hughes Mearns,from “Antigonish” 1899

Warm soapy water in the sink soothed the hands;
the ripple plunk of water was its own music. But there was
no big hand reaching for a wet dish to dry; it was as if
she had pulled a cup from the warm Continue reading →

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