Category: Poetry
At the Coffee Shop One Afternoon
by Josie
When the man in the hat ordered a beer from the high school barista at the coffee shop, I politely declined the impulse to stare; him, in his funky, retro cowboy-hat and single, dangling hoop earring ordering a beer from the kid behind the espresso machine who giggled. Poor kid. I wondered which was redder: the lad’s salty cheeks or the man’s full-body … Read More At the Coffee Shop One Afternoon
Poetry in the Rough
by Josie
Brazen chipped callous lines side of left toe, stretches, white, as I stretch wide— toe pockets marked with shadows echo tide pools and wave drops pitter sand from the mat of the car. Chalk elbows graze along the grey window sill, dragging slip lines of dust mites bits of me I haven’t missed.
The Sands Tell Tales
by Josie
The sands tell tales of arduous tracks of long, lumbering earthy strides; there are those before me who have pressed the sand with leaden burdens and dragging hearts, the prints of souls unsatisfied. Then there are
Shell Theory
by Josie
My praise is but the catacombs of waves the stuff of ant children and young sunflowers. Waves speak quieter than I, and go much further. I wave, the whole earth grows— how my arrogance is so!
Wild Man of Swaziland
by Josie
Buck-toothed and dreadlocked the wild man of Swaziland plunged sugared fingers into a bowl of cheesy potatoes. He shifted his restless feet for a firmer perch against the mountain scree, and spat out a hunk of chicken poo. Plump beetles scampered around his hairy ankles looking frazzled to existence; the wild man took but peripheral notice his attention otherwise committed to thick fingered … Read More Wild Man of Swaziland
Celestial Gala
by Josie
Cosmic harmony dances upon toes, & the sun which sweeps arm hairs to spring bouquet, (so fit for a gala) keeps time.
A Case for Willfulness
by Josie
The sea— at the lip of which I sink, slow silly my toes in sucking black sand perch the heavy surf swell tunneling past my ankles –still hasn’t made up its mind.
To Furnish in Reverse
by Josie
I rearrange the furniture of my mind. So much so that the very chamber ceases to be furnished— perfection. Empty headed perfection, level in every absolute way; I can cartwheel and headstand without worry– an unfurnished apartment lifestyle suits me amicably.
Black Bird
by Josie
The black bird on a black tree sprouting black leaves whistles at me; me, in my blended sweater wooden bench my skin dipped caramel and the glint of inside lamplight against my watch face.
That man, there
by Josie
the one at the corner table with a steady drip, drip, drip of the rain gutter run off on the vinyl table which splashes against his wristwatch, even I can see the water drops on his wristwatch even I, from my middle table, my table safe under the wide awning, safe from the refuse of rain that pads the streets with puddles that … Read More That man, there
