240 – #TBT


No photos but stories
pulled out of the air
at the picnic table.
Pints help. Lore
carried for years, spun
like sugar gone hard
at the back of the drawer.
It’ll break your jaw
if you bite too hard.
Let it dissolve into the blood
as the best stories do. Sharp cystals
cut a little, mainlining
straight to the ticker. Sticks
and stones and breaking bones.
And above it all that big rock candy
mountain looming.

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *