I remember you most on a black bench, fingers on the keys, trying to play as passionately as you wanted to be, as you were, for you held your wild heart uncertainly. You knew not how to hold it properly. But all I could hear was you banging too hard on the keys. Trying to … Continue reading Black Bench
Tell my why I prefer naked moonlit nights to the shade of sunny days. I'm not white, I'm the color of murky ocean, curdling beneath me with drifting globes of jellyfish. I dream of peeking down below at all the things that grow there. I'm meant to lounge in softness, killing dragons, slaying monsters, in … Continue reading Shade of Summer Days
We don't talk anymore. Whether it's because you're hiking different cliffs followed by almost children, or because I'm too aware of the threat of your sex to what I need most. I don't know. But we don't talk anymore. I admit, I still wonder about the path you stood by and offered to me with … Continue reading We Friends Don’t Talk Anymore
I don't have time to meet the end, I'm picking at my scalp and wondering-- no, knowing, you'll never try to change it. They call it pride. You call it personality. And I try at scabs and puss and stuff to distract me from never seeing you, because your demons had always danced and sung … Continue reading Dandruff and Mothers
He paves a path through morning dew in search of apples. Little legs, though not as little as they use to be. Crows of sheep and points at goats, then waits to see if the cat's on the roof. Wanders back with upraised hands-- still little hands. Almost to big to carry home, but little enough … Continue reading A Little Walk
You're not getting out. Not from this, anyways. The land doesn't allow shacks with stone foundations, or even dirt. No home. Just fines. Because it devalues the mansion besides it. You pay the price but do not own the land. It takes you whole, demands you give more and more slices of a pie that's … Continue reading For Free
I forgot that honey makes me think of you. Your mother horded all her harvested honey in jars on the highest cuboard, though she had sworn a life of sugar, dairy, meat, and wheat celibacy. Honey was all she had left. Honey for another day. But you'd take down a jar, when you'd make me … Continue reading Honey
Electricity changes from month to month, But, on average: 100...Maybe. Garbage: 20 Phone: 48 Car Insurance…we’ve been in too many wrecks. Medication: 50 something That changes all the time But I’m mostly ashamed that I even have it. Gas: 200 More insurance: 93 Because it’s illegal to not have enough. Groceries: I don’t want to … Continue reading Budget
Take me. I'm too sleepy to be fit for initiative. The world about me roars and churn, but all I wish is to be, drifting along my cool river through summer trees, bills and papers floating past me. Don't try to inspire me. What action can one, who is caught up in breathing and trying … Continue reading Take Me
A ghost walked through my door, tagged along by a tiny, three-year old responsibility, and asked me nothing, but heavily implied and sagged until I offered a bed. A ghost walked through my door, heavy, weary, with echoes of drugs in my head, medical or otherwise, waiting till I offered food to announce that she … Continue reading Bringing in a Homeless
Author T.S. Lowe 