When the Senator sat down on those steps and looked up to the microphone and told them he was a fraud, he became the most honest…
a worn-flat rug was spread out beneath
orange walls that smelled of the wool ponchos in the closet
and the friendly desert cabinet
The room of dusty posters and open drawers looked almost pretty
in the morning sun reaching through the holes in the drapes.
Long unfinished cigarettes grew out of wooden ashtrays
I was the hair standingup on endand the disbelief when I kissed my own arm
My lips knew exactly how to lay outto suck overto last, holdmove lower, higher,
If we are quieter
than the many hidden clocks,
if tonight we can talk slower
than the song playing at nine-o-clock,
ten-o-clock somewhere, we will be ok.
I tried to make a joke about Emma Watsonwalking into a bar in Mobile, Alabamaas “Mississippi Queen” started playingat a deafening level, even for huntersuse to shotguns going off three inches from their heads,but it had a clear racist bouquet to it,like Mulder would…
I am the last goodbye we never had
the first glance you take of a painting
the moment you fall asleep,
and the number of crickets outside your window.
momsdad’s feet on uncle’s floor
puckering against skin still
slick with early morning.
peace be with those bloodless dream-fears
We sat reclinedBony knees escaping from beige shorts knocking against each otherFit for a sticky summer night.Your position momentarily disruptedBy the allure of a bowl of peanuts.You leaned forward, reaching outFor the glass dish.Thin spotted legsCaught my…
days feel like chapters
I. sit deep
and so comes the draft
the section speaks
more than what’s happening
These were the top 10 stories published by Poems and Micro-Stories; you can also dive into yearly archives: 2013, 2014.