Tag: prose poetry
-
Hope Pervades
Hope pervades in all things. There is hope that things will work out the way we want, hope that things will be different. There is hope in the satiating of addiction and hope that the cravings will end. Sometime overnight a black van parked on the side of the road outside of work. With the…
-
These are thoughts too
The most unusual cries are reverberating into the atmosphere, bouncing from concrete walls to traffic sounds. Part loon, part howl; indistinct, yet through it a thought pierces the surface. . . people are. And it wasn’t exactly a thought thought in words as much as a collage of images, maybe a montage of sorts. In…
-
Feast
Feast—Could be a stagnant, sunny day; could be soaked and drizzling. Along a row of dumpsters the crows hang out on the truss-work just above. Behind them, in the broad-leafed maple (leaves white with fungus, and crispy-brown singed edges) dozens of crows fly in and out, back and forth. Of the crows that have taken…
-
Headed up the hill (Springing hair)
He’s walking along the sidewalk -headed up the hill- carrying his backpack on both shoulders. His springy hair, like the willow tree across the street, hangs over his face. His face hangs over his phone.
-
Construction Worker
In plump raindrops, the construction worker, with his hard hat and faded denim jeans, dirty-orange safety vest, pulls taut a white string that comes from a manhole in the lane nearest the sidewalk. He labors slowly, like a man pulling a semi; like a centaur. With the rope over his shoulder each step is deliberate…
-
As it Happens
I’m alive, am I alive. a(lye) ive. I’m alive. a(lie) ive. am I alive. a(lye) ive. I’m alive. a(lie) ive, so a live. I’m alive, am I alive. x3 I sit here waiting for good things to happen, and when they finally do I don’t even think for a second that they might be because…
-
Her Face a Song
Her Face a Song She came to me. Like she knew that her pain and my guilt were forces meant to be joined together. A magnet, she walked right up to the window and locked eyes with me. She knew the guilt, the shame, that my humanity and hers would conjure up. Years of smokestain…
-
Sophia Loren
I’m having dreams again, or rather I’m remembering them. Hold my breath, don’t dare tell anyone, in case they disappear. Up in a puff of smoke. Who’s that Italian broad, ran around with Andy Warhol? she was there. Sophia Loren? nah, fashion designer or something. While adjusting her garter she told me, work. work. work.…
-
The World’s Dad (Sunhands)
Sometimes I think about wrapping my arms around everyone I see. Give the world a great big hug. Tell you all I’m sorry for not being there, for leaving you stranded, so all alone. But, dad’s here now. I got a little caught up in all that I smote, then I tried to keep you…
-
One Moment of Contentment
While driving a co-worker asks, if you could live for a thousand years, would you? No, I say, after a pause to make a right hand turn, I don’t learn lessons well enough to do it all over again, for that long… I would live in one moment of contentment, forever, though.
Daniel J Flosi is Consumed 