Tuesday, July 22, 2008


The homesickening smells of the bread factory
turn the short drive home epic.
At a red light, the driver's face
(flashed with whitelight/whitelight/whitelight)
reveals a lifetime of long-sleeved covered bruises.

New mothers use no discretion.
Their breasts teeming with milk, they need to feed.

Dandelions use no discretion.
Their seeds flying into unkempt places, insisting on thriving.
They need to grow.

When I speak, I will use no discretion.
My words disrobing your alleys and darkened rooms,
awakening your deepest regrets.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Love the prose, have never seen the word homesickening before, yes yes, you must have done well on the verbal section of the SAT