Shouting whacks against the walls

Happy memories slip down

With a sick crash

Glass cracked falling like tears

Angry shards crunch beneath my feet

I hold an empty frame

Full of everything but peace...

“Excuse me Headmistress you have a … visitor.”

Brontë was pale as delivered the message. Her last word wobbly and uncomfortable as a pebble in one’s shoe. Standing, Jackson froze. Energy cackling from her fingernails, Hemingway sprang towards the door. The Order was many things, mystical, erudite, ancient. Most of all the Order was secret. No one could just drop by.

“H halt!” The Headmistress s...

The cloying stench of baby oil and soiled diapers clung to every hair on my body. Disgusted, I edged to the door. I gave sad eyes to Kind Lady and Big Guy. They didn’t even look up. Their eyes were glued to it. I gave my most pitiful whimper. Nada. Nothing. Zilch.

I sighed and headed for my dog bed in the kitchen. From the living room, the bundle screamed in victory as I walked away in defeat. In...

It rained today

Shrouded in overcast

Tucked tight

Beneath sheets of rain

It rained yesterday

It’s rained everyday

It’s been raining for years

Drizzling tears

Or lightning hacking the dark gray

Or the droning driving beat of

Pitter pat, pitter pat pounding down

Down

Turn away from the wet tomorrow

Reaching for the cool side of the morning...

I was once a runner

Nothing spectacular

just steady

Warm muscles gliding

In loose loops around our neighborhood

Years ago I was jogging

I saw my son walking up ahead

I followed

Thinking it would be funny

Thinking he’d hear the pounding of my sneakers,

turn around and see me

We’d laughed

Instead he jumped into a car

With a couple of guys I didn’t know

Teens yet older than my kid

Sketchy AF

Thei...

“So, tell me, Kennedy, was your new page born stupid or did he take lessons,” Hemingway said.

Embarassed, Kennedy looked at the door that had just closed. Dickens had left to do a coffee run. She could feel the weight of Hemingway’s beady eyes on her neck just waiting for a response. The Headmistress’ enforcers needed to be brief on the assisgnment status. Feet on the conference table, Jackson wa...

There were cupcakes in the Farkas Solutions break room. Not the usual generic supermarket offerings with dried out frosting, these were fresh baked homemade treats dipped in rainbow sprinkles. A yellow post it stated: enjoy. In a shark-like frenzy, these staff swarmed the break room. Maintenance swept up the yellow crumbs.

“Does an idea ever just circle in your head?” Jim said, around his second...

Here rests her weary head

Buried by algorithms

Deeply shrouded nearly dead

With her broken-hearted bosum

AI awaits gloating

With his effortless prose

A wolf in sheep’s clothing

Leading thought to the gallows

Imagination was hijacked

We replaced her with jargon

Metaphors sit unpacked

muse’s face on a milk carton...

“Dude, your mouth is hanging open,” Kennedy whispered.

Dickens clapped his mouth shut. They’d travelled to the Tree, which turned out to be a vast forest embodying children’s books. As Lady Kennedy sped along a yellow brick road, Dickens had spied Whoville, Narnia, and a pack of Berenstain Bears lumbering by. The young page now knew where the wild things were and he was shook.

They followed a l...

Line-dried laundry and the purple flowers that used to grow in the window boxes of his preschool, the warm and bright fragrance swirled around Dickens. They had been driving for hours. In silence.

Inhaling, Dickens leaned his head out of the passenger side window. He glanced over at Kennedy. The seasoned tracker had a death grip on her steering wheel. The page fought back the urge to ask Kenned...