My cat is obsessed with killing a stuffed sheep a friend of mine gave my toddler. Not that the little boy cares if his fluffy sheep gets mauled by a zealous gray kitten, but I'm a little concerned for my friend.
Category: Poetry
Metal Shop
He left behind a metal shop, this man who nature calls my father. All lasers, all tech, all connected via motherboards and towers full of chips. And I can't help but think, this was his. This was his world, where he dreamed, where he created... what? Why do I know so little? If someone were … Continue reading Metal Shop
More on Social Anxiety
Every other day or so I forget that I don't like people. And say, "why don't I like them?' As I prance into what I believe is a dream of friendship laughter, circles of multicolor happiness, and pink charm. Funny, how it takes the real deal to remind me: I don't like people For the … Continue reading More on Social Anxiety
Come Softly, Now
Come here, softly now, because your heart and every tender feeling of your soul is breaking, and one careless step will shatter you. I know. I've been there too. I've caught my lover's personal whore legs spread on the screen-- the page, the phone, hidden from me and stealer of all his need for me. I've … Continue reading Come Softly, Now
I Want to Dream of Mermaids
I want to dream of being afraid of the deep end of the ocean, right off the cliff of the land I know. I want to dream of moving through waters with each move of my brow and neck, rather than by pecarious balance of feet. I want to dream of gasping for thin human … Continue reading I Want to Dream of Mermaids
I don’t like letting go of Money
I don't like letting go of money. I know, I know, I'll pay, because I want it. But, just for a moment, remember I'm handsie and don't like letting go of money. Yes, yes, I know you need it as well. You did the job, you did what I want, now here it is, but … Continue reading I don’t like letting go of Money
Breathe
Come here. Sit at the foot of my bed. The walls are strong, and it's quiet here. You can breathe. Because, I hear, that you hardly get enough air these days, and your poor chest is breaking for breath. So just come here a moment, sit at the foot of my bed, and breathe. Breathe. … Continue reading Breathe
A Night for Forgetting
It's raining on the eaves, and I'm watching a charming Anime. And should I care to peek next door, a little son with hands about a teddy snores. I've always wanted a cat. And he purrs whenever I squeal and hug him, because he's soft, and Anime is fun. My bed--so soft! This memory foam … Continue reading A Night for Forgetting
Syrian Toddler Drowns
He had little shoes. Trying to get to a life with food. While my own watches Megamind, swathed in soft cloth. He had little hands. Following with or without Mommy. While my own squeals every time I kiss him too long. He had little legs. Swallowed up in an ocean, and found too late. While … Continue reading Syrian Toddler Drowns
Poop
Pretty sure that's a whole pound of poo he left in the shower. And there's an empty bottle of my expensive, velveteen bodywash, I thought I had put out of his reach. But nope, there's the stool to potty train him. That's how. And then there's all the bath toys wallowing in the pits of … Continue reading Poop
Author T.S. Lowe 