Memory Scrawls
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A Boxer In the Dark of the Car

There’s something about lemonade in the summer that just hits me. Like right now, I can see the glass pitcher with the lemony yellow liquid inside. Someone is stirring it with a spoon. A glass full of ice cubes sits on the counter. Someone picks up the pitcher and pours the lemonade in the glass.… Continue reading
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Soul House

There was a dark, lonely road of dirt that led to a bright spot at the end. There were leaves, turned sour and clotted in the mud. The road was lined with black trees, leaning in, almost like an arch, and at the end of the road rose up a white house – old, a… Continue reading
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Sanka in Space

Grandmama smoked cigarettes, the smoke swirling as the red-wing black birds she watched fluttered like ruby UFOs in the big yard of summer green, the glass orb on its pedestal surrounded by flowers and a garden of carrots and cabbage and long green beans … the rabbit war machines with glossy eyes looking upward at… Continue reading
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The Translucent Wander Pain

Looking through her red box On a stormy, sunny day A cold room full of hot heart It was a different time In a faraway place Found out all about the only unforgivable thing she did again Had to fly away from the bad news Park my ride and drink away the hard bruise And… Continue reading
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The Boy With The Spanish Bayonet

Her cactus bed smelled like butter nectar. She swears that lying down on the thorns helps her back, yet all the red marks there on her skin, looks like she was nearly eaten alive by fire ants. Fire ants. She remembers the hot summer day when she was maybe 12 and she was playing in… Continue reading
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Ghost Mints

Winter’s weight and dust galoreEyes heavy in the pain of dawncheekbones achewhiskey madness takes its tollon an ever-building mint bridge to heaven, scars, delusionsI’d be cutting the lawnif there were a lawn to cutI’d be drinking soda drops and popsif I wasn’t a ghostsuch a ghostwalking through wallswading in the stallsI might be painting the… Continue reading
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Weird Upstairs Walking Guy

There is this guy seewho lives upstairs from mehe’s the weird upstairs walking guywalks and walksbut he never says hi – until today he looked disheveled and bruisedhair all a musstoting a bank bag full of moneyand I’m wondering what all the walking is forfloor to floorhe walks and walkstill a quarter to four Is… Continue reading
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Firefly Eyes

There is orderThere is disorderThere are purgative drugsAnd there are clouds to sleep on It was a day that was easy to dance toIt had a beatand a really good rhythmwith the angel ship standing there like she wassome great gift slipped directly from God’s palmsand she didn’t even begin to singshe just stood there a… Continue reading


