On Hiking In Northern Washington

A poem about escaping the city

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If Ever the Grey-Cloaked Moon

It was a dark and stormy night—the kind, like war, that mitigated irascible deeds, covering murder with the tintinnabulations of rain on corrugated metal gables; and I, enswathed in my ignominious velvet cape, navigated our city's ever-slickening streets brandishing a penchant for justice. This little slice of purple prose was written for YeahWrite's microprose challenge. Click …

Merope

I had imagined pinks and vermillions, an impossible sunset contained within an industrial warehouse. I had heard the chitter of squirrels and felt spring breezes. But when I awoke to a thump, felt the vibrations through the floor of my Nomad cell, and saw the most beautiful open door I had ever seen, I knew …

Fluency

first let the nacre of that word coat in your throat your throat then throw the stone lovely in its speckling up to the threshold of your mouth your mouth let it ping off your uvula clatter the back of teeth an orb in the pinball machine of your body your body enough with the swallowing …