i got lost in time. The streets buckled inward. the sound of voices headphoned through cotton, light reflected through gasoline air--darting off the brick and wood of windows. A tricycle under foot creates half-dance pirouette across curb, treelawn, tough clod dry hump of yard. Quick glimpse of a dress vanishing into a closing door.
Hey ma, can I have a cookie?
No dice!
Love turned out to have more than a kitten's face. But it was, like the old can opener, misplaced somewhere in the back with old hand mixers, temperature probes. Reach in and snag your fingers, old cook.
Signs of greatness once seen late nite in made for TV movie.
job with the ad agency.
Stumbled loose jawed in the corrugated orchard.
Rain kissed across highway pedestrian mornings. Bag of clothes.
Allen Sharpe kids no one with stooped assumptions & aggravated tone.
