You refused to take my ten dollars for gas.
They were my last.
But I did not earn them.
We took two of my last ten,
bought two apples,
two pieces of caramel,
and talked on a bench in the supermarket.
Which strangely was
a very strange thing to do
in the US of A in two thousand ten.


  1. These were cheap & mildly poisonous …All american apples were organic before WWI. Then the govt’ment re-purposed some weapons factories and here we are. Maybe the gov’ment should have keep using the weapons what they were meant for. Ha! Suppose then there wouldn’t be anybody around to go green.

  2. Beautifully simple moment, a photographic vignette encased in glass, saved for later in your handwriting. Well done.

    1. What we talked about on that bench was the echo chamber of the blogosphere. It is odd how this chamber of mirrors splits discourse into sycophantic praise or trolling keyboard assassinations.

      Mimesis can go too far, but it is also a legitimate tool for making pretty new things. Reading good verse makes me spit up doggerel, which I think’s fun.

      Knowing myself to be too negative I read Edgar’s “M” and yr “Flock” and tried to write something other than an attack. AND I PICKED ON THE USA AT THE END, MY FAVORITE COUNTRY! This will have to be remedied.

      Spike Jones, “You Always Hurt The Ones You Love”

    1. Thank you Kay. Yr link to yr work seems to be broken. I always read people who comment for me. I do not always praise back though. This is a cheap hobby anyway. 😉

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