Slack-Jawed

You, Me & the Devils that Be

I will admit, sitting at the breakfast table watching you hold your queasy stomach felt like a conquest. Everyone busied themselves fetching you ibuprofen and gatorade, offering old wives tale remedies while I sat taking slow draws off my coffee. I secretly hoped your wife would come back to see you in your current state.…

Sight on Scene

I felt the tears pool up and fall in rivulets down my temples. As I turned to my side I pulled the furry body pillow to my chest and buried my face in it. How could I be so naive?  What would it have taken for me to leave? A raised voice? Physical violence? I…

Untitled Poem on Cocktail Napkin

You were in every moment now. In the elated pounding of my steering wheel on the way home from seeing you. In the pulsing in my head when the music in the bar drowned out all thoughts. In the rising tide in my eyes on nights spent in empty sheets. Waking life was now a…

A Slow Day in the Office

So I sit in my cubicle and cut off my split ends with some scissors I found in the filing cabinet. I have a restless energy. My email is strangely empty and without an onslaught of work I must resort to sitting with my feelings. Never. I put in my earbuds and listen to indie…

Cubicle Existentialism

When did anomie become your Beelzebub? When did the nihilistic shadows in your mind take the shape of an archaic demon? Your God became a substitution for your art, a depthless void to pour your love out to. He is not listening. Perhaps he never was.  You constructed a framework to systemize the spiritual behaviors…

Glass House

When I was young, I remember being enraptured by the idea of living in a glass house. I imagined erecting my glass home deep in the woods, able to view the going-ons of nature intimately while being safe from the elements. It need only be a single room, blending in with the environment rather than breaking…

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