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Daily Deviation
Literature Text
I.
Out on the porch, my mother sat in an Adirondack chair, smoking
her first cigarette in ten years. The air was hazy and discolored.
Her wedding ring spun on the table, gathering fallen ashes.
I was on the floor, knees tucked up under my chin, poking sticks
down the cracks. She spoke of lies and imagined bliss.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed.
I listened as my mother explained the complexity of love.
II.
Last night he drove just over the state border. I sat in the car,
feet up on the dashboard, singing with the radio. He looked at me
like he had a secret. He was the sage and I was the fool.
So there we were, lying together on the moth-eaten bed of some sleazy motel,
naked and not touching. The drink machine hummed outside, the gnats
gathered toward the flickering light.
And I know that I was warned, still it was not what I hoped.
Out on the porch, my mother sat in an Adirondack chair, smoking
her first cigarette in ten years. The air was hazy and discolored.
Her wedding ring spun on the table, gathering fallen ashes.
I was on the floor, knees tucked up under my chin, poking sticks
down the cracks. She spoke of lies and imagined bliss.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed.
I listened as my mother explained the complexity of love.
II.
Last night he drove just over the state border. I sat in the car,
feet up on the dashboard, singing with the radio. He looked at me
like he had a secret. He was the sage and I was the fool.
So there we were, lying together on the moth-eaten bed of some sleazy motel,
naked and not touching. The drink machine hummed outside, the gnats
gathered toward the flickering light.
And I know that I was warned, still it was not what I hoped.
Literature
call time
alone with night i want to call up a friend
&
Literature
on not knowing.
this road was ten miles long.
i traveled barefoot.
Literature
A Way to Forget
I was seeking aimlessly
through the jars of my life.
I found them in a dream,
these great, magic urns,
one containing butter, one, milk
others filled with grains or brass or gold.
I was looking for the lids, in order to cover them up
but i could not find even one.
Sometimes, I would spill a little and
sometimes, I would return from elsewhere
to find them empty
This caused me a great deal of anxious sadness
just sitting there, looking into the empty containers
that once held my life
I woke up some time later and checked the clock
10 pm
I had not had a drink in several hours.
I needed a drink.
So,
I got up and
produced shirt
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Critiques welcomed. This is possibly the first thing I've written with any substance at all in almost two years.
© 2009 - 2024 McClelland
Comments55
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gosh, this is phenomenal. the small details all weave together like dancing threads to create a bigger picture that resonates through my bones.