© Marie Marshall.
Go here for an update on my new poetry book. Don’t get too excited though. Not yet, anyway.
..or a stubbed toe…
or like surfacing out of of deep water… into quicksand.
Great poem, Kvenna.
Thanks. You can call me Marie.
I am the worst at getting names correct! (gabriel makes a sheepish face).
Have you met the Cherokee? She is me and I am she and coffee suits us to a tee. Pochahontas had a bit part when she married John Rolfe and took a sailing trip to the Isles.Poor lass did not make it past Gravesend, but her boy was a fine feathered father and passed about the genes. I’m still counting lips, sis. Have a chocolate?
Don’t mind if I do.
(passes open box) Excellent! Jellies on the left end, mixed nuts or cream centers in the middle, nougats on the right end. Enjoy!
the toil required to not vent while waiting for coffee
is sometimes impossible. i guess groping can be done without words
since searching is involved.
that would make this coffee clutch sort of telepathic
and that makes whatever’s next…who wants to know?
Now then… concentrate, really hard…
here goes (pause)
the odds of making day or night disappear seem to be increasing. thank you.
Don’t mention it.
blood-shot eye. boiled peanuts. crazy old lady who can’t find her leg.
The latter certainly.
Reblogged this on Ariel Ceylan's Blog.
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