I can feel you rotting inside my teeth
Breaking my bite and clenched smile
You’ve stayed too long inside
A clean mouth
Spitting you out
Washing it in
My pockets are lined with paper
My finger holds the stone
That knows me better than
Better than my
threading through memories of your past
weaving hopes and dreams on the loom of life
in and out
under the hanging overpass
over a creaking bridge
poised to collapse beneath me
constantly testing me
asking me the question embedded in my heart
take the route of avoidance
and back again
echo patterns of yesterday
trace back to the start
follow through a silver thread
I perfect my backwards walk
Across the avenue
As I make amends
Picking up pieces of broken glass
My collection of mistakes
Trying untangling knots
That can’t be untangled
Longing for the day
When string flows freely once again
There had been 3 murders in our small little town. All the same. As if a lion had torn them all apart.
It was early fall. Oranges and rust colors begin to fill in the trees. We were not allowed to go out because of the creature.
If indeed it was a creature. At least that's what we called it in school. I had a theory! It was a Ware wolf.
One day my brother and I took all the silver we had. We took it to Old man Johnny and he turned it into a silver bullet.
He was like a wizard! So finely crafted it was. He engraved it with our initials. S.O and D.O.
We kept the bullet in a small little bag. Under all of our comic books. If one day the Ware wolf does come we will be ready.