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 Dec 2013 Mimi
Tyler Nicholas
It's like your first time
smoking **** as the smoke
floats across the black light
like a whispered prayer
to God
or a damnation
to Satan.

That startling paranoia,
with that tinge of euphoria.

It's what keeps your hands trembling.
 Dec 2013 Mimi
Marsha Singh
You were hard
like sun-warmed
stone, your
eyelashes were
feathers – these
are things I can't
forget; I'll write
you poems forever.
 Dec 2013 Mimi
 Dec 2013 Mimi
It didn't make sense
It felt Fingers
Chain link fence

So the moon dim
Gibbus tide riddle

Keep your wheel in the hairpin
Bite  a hook
You'll be my friend

Go ahead
Spike the ocean
A drop of salt blood
The wolf of horizon runs
Spilling fangs of
red dwarf sun

Can you water:
Crash against the rock
Until pieces of you break off
Pristinely lying on my skin

Think air until you hear
Grandeur breath of leaves
Mountain or dog
Sing songs of love

White cheek
Spun in moonlight
Foot to the path
Song on the tounge
Free til I'm dog
Whiskey til I'm drunk
Hold my breath
Count to ten
Blue eyes / begin again
 Feb 2013 Mimi
 Feb 2013 Mimi
i don't need to write a poem about you
you are a poem

your breath and eyes and touches
are poetry to my thirsty heart

any words that i use to explain
will not do justice
to your beautiful poetic sadness
 Feb 2013 Mimi
L Curley
 Feb 2013 Mimi
L Curley
I wish that pain dried up
Like puddles left by summer showers
 Feb 2013 Mimi
JJ Hutton
iPhone 5
 Feb 2013 Mimi
JJ Hutton
"Siri, I love you."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"Would you like me to search the web for 'wine dot'?"
 Dec 2012 Mimi
JJ Hutton
I'm a bald man now. Ever read the Book of Job? I like how he copes. The change is not purely aesthetic. That bothers me. When people cut their hair, tan their bodies, or lose weight for the sole purpose of hearing blinking friends and distant cousins say you've changed.

I'm sorry to hear about Tim's dad. I'm sure he'll get better. I'd say, I'm glad you two are getting back to normal, but I don't feel optimistic enough to lie. Tonight, I'm tending to a toothache. Covering one end of a cocktail stirrer, dipping it in scotch, and using it as a medicinal dropper. After typing that sentence, I realized the absurdity of this situation. Trading surgical for savage pulls from the bottle.

Heather came over on Halloween. I ran a bath for her. She nursed a fading cigarette while sitting on the edge of the sink and with a wet paper towel wiped off her stage makeup. She told me she had twelve piercings. Then she said people usually ask her where they're at. Some information reveals itself.

I could hear hummed melodies through the wall as she bathed, as I made my bed. Lit three candles. Sprayed some Febreze to cover the stench of my existence. She came in wearing my robe. Without makeup, she looked boyish. Lost, angry.

Her breathing didn't comfort me. She drifted to sleep quickly. As bizarre as it sounds, I could feel Karen in the room. She was the moving shadows. She was the branches scraping against the house. She was the light I left on in the closet. To spite her, I woke Heather up.

I traced her piercings like a holy diary pressed in brail. I sank teeth into hipbone. Sharpened. The *** was short. To be expected, I suppose. Three years of celibacy. She told me it surprised her that it took me this long to sleep with her.

Why did you let me? I asked.

Heather smiled a waving tightrope. Confident. Off-balance. She said I was warm. I was predictable. Like a country music song. I gave her my back. Turned on the television.

I haven't talked to her since. The thing about being born again is, sometimes when you've think you've died, you've only had a bad dream. A more final death lurks. Let's hope she killed me. Now, bald like an idiot babe, I'll try to start. No vanity. You were right. The adventure kicks off when I learn to love myself. Looking at the uneven bumps on my shaved head, I've already developed a crush. I'll apologize in my next letter.
 Dec 2012 Mimi
JJ Hutton
Funny. I have a similar problem. When a waitress drops in to take a drink order, I can never look her in the eye. Guilt, I suppose. There’s nothing she’s doing for me I can’t do for myself. Legs work. Hands work. Let me walk to the water dispenser and press the glass into it. Let me pick up my food. Let me carry it to my table. You take it easy, sweetheart. So, instead of meeting her pupils, I find myself reading and re-reading her nametag. A silent mantra. Tara. Tara. Tara.

Thank you for saying I should be “held by my edges.” That’s a candy-coated take on the truth. A more accurate description would have been “*******.” Oh, the toxic mix of shame, alcohol, and letter writing. I’m a new man, though. Cologne and everything. I’m even done drinking. Well, after I finish this beer. Still had one in the fridge. Anyway, I’m sorry.

No, women like Heather don’t disappear cleanly. Or with grace. In the silent moments, she always looked at me like I might hit her. She’ll probably tell friends I did. Everyone enjoys a good story. She called Friday. Said she’d taken some X. Dancing on her couch. I could join her or just watch. I just hung up. Did I tell you she’s really into Anime? And she attaches faux foxtails to her belt. I’m not sure if one of those traits is responsible for the other. Wish she didn’t know where I lived.
 Sep 2012 Mimi
K Balachandran
"My first attempt in aerobatics"
The trainee pilot, a petite girl softly replies.
As the single engine trainer aircraft attempts a daring loop,
my perplexed eyes see ground below races upwards!

No time now for anything, but to enjoy the fruit of karma.
The complex ways 'karma' operates! By agreeing to go for a joy ride with inexperienced yet adventurous pilot, I was asking for the fruits of her karma, without knowing the price..Lucky me, landed safe.
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