one word takes away the time astray
to say the tame to trade the same
to canned unwrapped to wish unwrapped
to think to thought two too to wit
i miss the kisses the trist, but
nothing better than the twist
love on the times
trick trips to the coffee
the tame
let go from a job, it was about time…to many days had passed waiting for the right moment…well it was decided for him that day…and it was a blessing. goodbye at last
It was my last day. The boss had called me into his office first thing in the morning. “you just aren’t the conventional staff we wanted” he had said. “I am so sorry” he had added. Well have fun conventionally cleaning toilet paper off the office walls.
She rummaged through the drawer, tossing aside spoons and spatulas until she found the can opener. Pulling it out, she slammed the drawer out of abject frustration. Why can’t things ever end up where they were supposed to go? The can of soup on the counter looked less and less appealing as she banged around the kitchen, angry and claustrophobic.
one word takes away the time astray
to say the tame to trade the same
to canned unwrapped to wish unwrapped
to think to thought two too to wit
i miss the kisses the trist, but
nothing better than the twist
love on the times
trick trips to the coffee
the tame
just as smiles do not
fall off the face like
pebbles off a cliff, there
one moment and
gone
the next,
and how you can’t
package the manifestation of a
feeling
inside a metal cylinder,
I firmly reject the
physics of
canned laughter
Canned peaches. Canned sardines. Canned green beans. The only things left on the dark, dusty shelf. The storm is getting closer.
let go from a job, it was about time…to many days had passed waiting for the right moment…well it was decided for him that day…and it was a blessing. goodbye at last
It was my last day. The boss had called me into his office first thing in the morning. “you just aren’t the conventional staff we wanted” he had said. “I am so sorry” he had added. Well have fun conventionally cleaning toilet paper off the office walls.
She rummaged through the drawer, tossing aside spoons and spatulas until she found the can opener. Pulling it out, she slammed the drawer out of abject frustration. Why can’t things ever end up where they were supposed to go? The can of soup on the counter looked less and less appealing as she banged around the kitchen, angry and claustrophobic.