#errands - Hello Poetry

I woke with too much purpose this morning. I swear it was me who split the dark sky open like pointed steel through wood. The sharp hack of existence hit when I visualized my wallet on the kitchen counter, leaning against that vase with the snake on it. Second in line at the grocery store, cart overflowing.

0

Mar 12, 2025

Mar 12, 2025 at 8:41 AM UTC

clairewrites

Second in Line

I woke with too much purpose this morning. I swear it was me who split the dark sky open like pointed steel through wood. The sharp hack of existence hit when I visualized my wallet on the kitchen counter, leaning against that vase with the snake on it. Second in line at the grocery store, cart overflowing.

12

He says he got no Sugar. Says he won't go to No stores for lovers

0

Jan 28, 2021

Jan 28, 2021 at 6:48 AM UTC

Ambrosetheconqueror

self indulgence

He says he got no Sugar. Says he won't go to No stores for lovers

3

1. Clutch sinks to the floor like a drunk mini skirt under a clever pickup line 1st gear gives way like an occasional lover Gas feathers in a subsonic prelude to a ****** Rolling 2. down our suburban street where sidewalks bend at the waist bowing to cracked driveways My single-minded objective upended by his scavenger’s mission Abrupt left “we must get that free tub” he says On the curb next to the faded plastic batmobile a rectangular residue of frayed cobwebs and forlorn leaves “son of a ***** dangles from his lips U-turn 3. tires crackle over loose asphalt steering wheel taught turning down the wrong street bewilderment derails my one track mind “lawnmower shop” he says I’ve known him long enough not to ask questions We have an understanding without understanding Sun splatters across my forehead an uncomfortable hot mess the cracked window is of little comfort as I await his return He holds the door for a dusty landscape artist pushing an unwieldy grass-cutting machine purring across the street late for the day’s rounds Wordlessly, he returns landing softly on his leather throne key sliding, kissing the lock cylinder willing forth internal combustion 4. Finally the bike shop

0

Jul 21, 2018

Jul 21, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC

left-brained-poet

errands with my love

1. Clutch sinks to the floor like a drunk mini skirt under a clever pickup line 1st gear gives way like an occasional lover Gas feathers in a subsonic prelude to a ****** Rolling 2. down our suburban street where sidewalks bend at the waist bowing to cracked driveways My single-minded objective upended by his scavenger’s mission Abrupt left “we must get that free tub” he says On the curb next to the faded plastic batmobile a rectangular residue of frayed cobwebs and forlorn leaves “son of a ***** dangles from his lips U-turn 3. tires crackle over loose asphalt steering wheel taught turning down the wrong street bewilderment derails my one track mind “lawnmower shop” he says I’ve known him long enough not to ask questions We have an understanding without understanding Sun splatters across my forehead an uncomfortable hot mess the cracked window is of little comfort as I await his return He holds the door for a dusty landscape artist pushing an unwieldy grass-cutting machine purring across the street late for the day’s rounds Wordlessly, he returns landing softly on his leather throne key sliding, kissing the lock cylinder willing forth internal combustion 4. Finally the bike shop

48

Sitting across from you I see forever in your eyes

0

Jul 1, 2016

Jul 1, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC

elle-nell

Let's start now

Sitting across from you I see forever in your eyes

1