On the street corner, two statues shake hands over the body of a drifter
whose throat was crushed by a hand about that size.
The fourth one this month, and the police still have no suspects.
The old abandoned apartment seems to get a little younger every day,
colors fading in, graffiti fading out.
Sepia-toned windows frame the ghosts of lives never lived.
No one comes in or out.
All over town, folks are packing up and leaving.
Not even bothering to sell,
and the houses are going downhill fast.
The church stands empty, aging by the day,
after the preacher lost his battle with something,
while his numb flock wander aimlessly.
Fewer and fewe
"Yeah Mom, I'll be home by midnight. I promise... Love you too. Bye." Tina rolled her eyes and stuffed her iPhone back in her bra. She hopped out of her car and hurried up the steps to Amelia Thorberry's house.
Amy's home was a hive of activity as hoards of teenagers arrived for the party. It was everything Tina had seen on TV. There was even a couple making out next to one of the massive columns, the pair completely oblivious to their surrounding.
The front door was wide open allowing the hundreds of guests stream in and out as they pleased. Tina stepped inside, wondering how long she could stand the music before she went deaf.
"Oh my fuc
Hyper-Space Speakeasy by BojackZoidberg, literature
Literature
Hyper-Space Speakeasy
Fetch your mono-cycle and monocle
Your dapper dark matter
Climb aboard the Swing-Ship
Let the stars scatter
Listen to the roaring jazz
As we exit the system
Lose yourself in the swing
A redundant dictum
Exit the galaxy
Enter the dance floor
See the conductor prepare
For the predictable encore
As we exit hyper space
And the engine slowly halts
Feel the 1-2-3
Of the Deep Space Waltz
So as the band decrescendos
And the Swing-Ship slows
You stay in the dance floor
For one more show.
You know what I miss?
The simple days
of aimless buses and trains,
like magic carpets
that helped us to escape,
if only for a little while.
I miss the endless walks
that led to hours of
strip mall shenanigans--
spinning in desk chairs,
petting that little blind kitten,
and reading anything
from cheesy joke books
to Frost's melancholic verse.
I miss cheap deli lunches,
discounted coffee house milkshakes, and
midnight conversations on the swings
at your old elementary school,
with the moon so bright that
I could see your T-shirt.
Remember that time when, hot chocolate in hand,
we followed the sound
of live fiesta music
sailing on the hollow
“I'm not saying they're not killing each other,” I explain. “I can see from the figures in front of me that they're killing each other. What I'm saying is that unless you can broaden your demographic, we're never going to meet our targets for this quarter. This is supposed to be a world war, Belgium and the Netherlands isn't going to cut it.”
War squawks at me down the phone. It's hard to hear him over all the screaming in the background, but frankly I'm not interested in his excuses, I need to see results.
“What do I expect you to do? Do your job! Think outside the box! Look, Famine is in Europe right now, why
this is where the animals worship by reechy, literature
Literature
this is where the animals worship
cathedral of coquina
sea stained glass windows
perched atop a river delta
nestled among the pooling eddies
a bed of river rock
baptismal floor of holy waters
curling around driftwood pews
and mangrove pulpit
aviary cupolas
for the osprey and egret
cherubs hide themselves as stars
winking through the skylight
god is a celestial being
watching, fishing
from the moon or sun
he is a cyclical traveler
draped in robes of indigo
smiling on the horizon
Thank you for letting me
sit by your fire
and warm my sore feet
and thaw my stiff cold hands.
Thank you for listening
to me ramble and rant
in the passenger seat
in the grocery store
on Sunday mornings
when you least want to hear.
Thank you for telling me
that I can't have everything
that thorns have roses
that patience prevails
that gloom is not doom
that summer is here
that my place in this world
matters.
Thank you for giving me
a safe place to hide my head
to grieve and dispair
to contemplate options
to dream and wonder
to fall and bounce
to let gravity feel its feet
again.
Thank you for loving me
the way that I am
the way that I'm n
In the summer world
a dreamy sun-kissed coastline
is sprinkled with seashells
Waves dance playfully
and they glimmer like gemstones
in Poseidon’s realm
Shadows from palm trees
whisper jungle secrets —
sandy rocks listen
Lazy afternoon
cotton clouds float like sailboats through
exotic waters