free write 1 (week 12)

Improv 2 (week 12)

Improv 1 (week 12)

Improv 1 (week 10)

“If it’s been ten times it’s been forty-five
I’ve checked the man out in the car behind
mine, teeth bared, laughing in my rearview”
He’s not gripping the wheel, he’s only flailing
arms like a blow-up doll in the wind.
The same penciled-in strap-on face, he’s a rubber
look alike to my passenger.
Darlene is her name, all filled up ready
to go. I follow her suggestions:
wrong way down the one way, pull the brakes,
run this, skid into that, close the doors
tight while she melts, she makes a steady wheeze
the same sound after the air bags
pop. By evening’s pallor she is leaky:
her legs go first sucked dry by the sun.
She is deflation next to me.
But now, with the white toothed
laughter, his smile, his arms all
play for mirrors, all smoke.
He is the fake, the afternoon
soap opera and my blow-up
holding my hand, slowly easing out,
letting go.

Free Write 2 (week 10)

I want to spoon your straw into clouds. I want to
cloud your panting paws. I want the grain elevators
lit, a roman candle to the bushels-a-day
coots in their co-ops. I want the soapbox
step up to the hot air balloon
stopping somewhere between arch and horizon:
That McDonalds on Main Street. I want to take elevators
down the silo , that is to say, lifting me deeper,
damper, darker to the ground where my wants
meet my wishes and that fabled outlander
drops a stamp of enlightenment. I want
hands to cup liquid grace. I want
a ribbon at the end of the race.

Junkyard 4-5 (week 10)

"The mine devoured seascape: it's a punched out eye to the waves"

"Does all cash eventually drift back to timer, to sappy pulp?"

Junkyard 3 (week 10)

"the girl with corn starch hips and jello ass"