Creative Writing – Page 5 – cereal after sex

He woke up to the sound of the maddening leaves. The sun was croaking forth. He had slept in the… Read more.

Lonely Motel

Doesn’t that look lonely That orange, muddled horizon Two cars at the Americana Motel The yellow brick and brown doors… Read more.

With a book to read and a bite to eat I plagiarize my wounds The stone archway is a shelter… Read more.

I’m tired But I can’t shut down Too much stimulation Via stillness My eyes want to close But the hands… Read more.

I decipher the angst of the world, glyphs sketched on the stalks as I make my way through the cornfield.… Read more.

And it feels good to be cold in this bed at 1:35 in the afternoon on a Sunday. No one… Read more.

Golden snow in the breeze Tree trunks sprayed by plowings A road leading to a blank horizon Hills in the… Read more.

The mathematics of the cactus are all a conflagration, graduation to a higher pot and seed and someone please, crush… Read more.

What is it about this disarray of life that eats at my guts on a hot morning in July while… Read more.

Now what? He was lying still in the afternoon bed. There was the sound of a blizzard slamming its way… Read more.

Do you have a rainbow? A colorful one—like cereal. No, I meant an umbrella. For the coming monsoon. I’ve been… Read more.

I saw an old television set just sitting in the road. It wasn’t plugged in, but it was playing a… Read more.