Archive for January, 2012

Triple Shot.

At the bakery in the market, the woman behind the counter always calls me “scrumple.” Like, “Whaddya need today scrumple?” “Try this this sample you scrumple you.” Not only is it weird, but it sounds like a baked good, and I just don’t like the insinuation that I have the same name as the things she sells.


“I want every day of my life to look like a postcard,” he told me.

“That’d be good,” I said. “Then you could buy the cheaper stamps.”


I heard this on the bus: “I just feel like we’re adults now. We can’t just go off and start stealing cars all of a sudden.”

Kids will be kids, that’s what I always think when I hear about motor vehicle theft.

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Through west Texas

Through west Texas you told me I needed to take a step back

when all we had was yellow brick after yellow brick after yellow brick,

I stayed between the lines.

And that always bigger picture of things loomed

above us, gazing in through the windshield,

squeezing our cheeks like a grandmother, so proud.

For us, all that was were stars and stars and stars.

Hours crawled by a mile a minute and change.

You got quiet for fifty some odd ticks to the odometer

and I peeked over and saw your eyes open.

I flicked my brights to wink at you and maybe you missed it.

I took a step back.

What’s left when every thing’s ahead?

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