excerpted from Warriors
He told her said dear girl, lay hand heavy on the white eyed sheet , thin so thin, not afraid as one might think. He had past slipped his arm round her waist to her annoyance always , up here not there, sweet eyes exploring, her, his girl, she wish he might try again , see it for how it really what is. Now. He on past sofa in grim squashed room, the ramshackle hotel across from there, came to rescue her from the clutches of defeat, take her home to new friendly safe where things are predictable kind, take my car, keep it you'll need it, money. Low moo sound gentle disappointed always in her his it. Dear sweet girl, you look like a whore. Quiet. Afraid of what might say in his unpredictable mind place, didn't, now. Held his quiet hand large on wide eyed sheet, disbelieving on his lips, half smile gone mind. His. Understand. How. She.
You don't have to
Life and death certainly it is certain death if you don't, why bother. You. Don't. Stay. Yours to paint in for ever yours, here , your own. Place nice. Sit. Stay please. Looking, not while she was there, pretend he wasn't anyhow she knew. He was . Watching. Her. It. Took it to far corner of the room. Hide. Eyes. From, line down the middle. Need. Small room not space like Wyoming, far away . Under my nose. You. Get it right. Throw the bum out. He wouldn't, didn't, couldn't. If it's real it gets you in the gut. No brain. No worry. You don't have to he said. Stay. No. Won't, don't. Always there they weren't he was. Life and death. Certainly. Sweet bitter. Pea green. Walls. Bare bottom that's all. Not a whimper.
Give it away don't
Always consistent. Too much energy . He said. Hoard. Precious. Juice. Use it. Those cut feelings who cares. Good for something hard not everyone can do, plow canvas word piano, violin, trombone souffle. Be juice, whore. Get it any way, you can. Solid like marble rock no fat though. Lean firm that place where knives don't cut except to trim fat. Plenty. Fat. Pretty smile gentle round. Don't disappoint. Give you his anything, give it all at once you, then some. Sit on a rock catch your breath , high altitude battering ram, dust those short shorts shake out moppet head get back up to even thinner air. Bone. Distilled rarified pure sweet smell, see if you want to shed a tear , dance a jig, stroke his/her head. Make something.
Them John Waynes
No matter, her him. Rein the gloved hand silk pink wrinkle . Those sunbonnets beg to be pushed back reveal a face of non contrite set ripe for fearless face of. Both. Contrary.
Apparently they did
John, Clint who care dare show the world and anyone who . Sit on a rock he'll catch your breath . Take you up high apparently they did, him, them, etc.
You don't have to
he said she heard
give it away.
is author of Glimpses
and A Story
(2013) from Scrambler Books, pamphlets Girls In Trees (2010) and Tucson Dessert (2012) from Greying Ghost Press
, echapbooks from Radioactive Moat Press
, Yellow Fringe Dress
(2011) and Patasola Press
, The Pure Girl
(2011); chapbooks from Folded Word Press
, Men Who Understand Girls
(2012), Nap Chapbook
(2012), Deadly Chaps Press
, Dancers on Rock
(2013) and Mud Luscious Press
, At The Beach
thanks Deadly Chaps Press
, who will be releasing Warriors
in 2013, for their kind permission to pre-print this excerpt.