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Monthly Archives: April 2011
Message in a Wine Bottle
The ink had dried, cursive letters swirled over parchment–– frosting decorating a cake without candles. He rolled the paper, a telescope, aimed it at the sea, and then sealed it with red wax that she had bought him in Florence. … Continue reading
Two Haiku
Love Full words, sounds, puzzles of rhyming meter seduce poets. Promises. Anti-love Trite words, blunt needles pierce poet balloons. Latex oozes broken air. © 2011 Kim King
Like Fresh Paint
After twenty years, they steamed off the floral wallpaper, revealing a layer of June Day Yellow under Museum White. They covered the couch where three toddlers once wrestled, spilled sippy cups, napped and bounced. They painted the ceiling Oyster White. … Continue reading
Recycling
My father used empty tin cans, stacked one on the other, starting with coffee and ending with tomato paste, for target practice with his pellet gun, pumped exactly six times before each shot. Ping–– one, two, three, four, five, six, … Continue reading
Table
Three clunky hand thrown pottery mugs count morning cups of coffee. Two crumpled paper napkins rest on mustard yellow plates smeared with currant jelly with one reused knife and spoon. A week’s pile of mail, some screws and a beige … Continue reading
The Knife
She pulled her sleeves and turned her wrists away to hide the slashes, red and fresh, that marked her alabaster arms. Her insides boiled, neglected chowder, curdled milk and fish in flames. “My egg and sperm adults delight in mental … Continue reading
Some Things My Father Taught Me
He showed me how to bait a hook with worms we pulled from backyard soil. We whistled blades of grass, then pried the hook from catfish mouths. He taught me how to make a pie with crust that’s flaky golden. … Continue reading
April’s Hangover
She got up too fast, her head a nimbus cloud, gray and full. She lay back down, swallowing hard, the night’s party odors still clinging to her hair and clothes. What had she said? What did she do? The fog … Continue reading
Maybe God Went Out For Lunch
Just maybe God went out to lunch and flipped the sign to “Back in Ten”. He might have turned into a shop to fix the soles of shoes or needed polish, laces, and a shine, before he strolled on down … Continue reading
The Cake
I blend two sticks of butter, the real kind, and three cups of sugar for about ten minutes, or until my arm is tired. I add five eggs, one at a time, and beat their round heads into a yellow … Continue reading
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