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Tag Archives: Robert S. King
I. Lost on the Long Way Around Drifting through the dreamscape of snowbound woods, we’ve passed by so many tranced hunters frozen stiff, star-frost sparkling in their beards. Petrified mummies, they pose, forever waiting. We think we hear their impatient … Continue reading
He leans out of a tenth-story window, but no one below bets he’ll jump. There is no melodramatic ledge or stage for his farewell performance, so mothers let their children watch. His cigarette cinders float gently down, as if he … Continue reading
Perhaps I should sip cocktails on shores where the muse surely skinny dips, or nap in the beautiful lap of mother nature who lullabies words and flowers of sweetest meanings. Maybe the hedonist in my head will write these pleasures … Continue reading
We poor go down into cold mines in search of something to hold light in our eyes. Beams fold behind us into darkness. Weather is a rain of dust and moths. We cannot go back— behind us the sound of … Continue reading
In the deepest part of the curve, you are on your knees in the middle of the road, head bowed, hands cupping your face, black gown blending into the asphalt, a bouquet and empty bottle cast off to the side … Continue reading
My drive speeds up to 65, each year faster. The curves straighten out. An old wind is at my back, racing a clock no longer running in circles. I try to brake and detour from the straightaways, take the clock’s … Continue reading