the pin you
drop
into the thick
dark rug,
that you
can't find,
even on
your hands
and knees,
will
find you
in all
good time.
walk gently
through
the pin filled
world.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2013
(1558)
-
▼
February
(161)
- the primal scream
- above water
- can you fix this
- your shadow
- flossing is important
- keep your distance
- the test drive
- a rose
- a cold world
- the baker
- a brunette moment
- forward we go
- a good flood
- birthday month
- sailing on
- a bag of nickels
- folding laundry
- the king
- a purse
- bye bye
- chocolate cake
- thirty days to live
- the violet room
- 33rd st. north
- already gone
- the woodpecker
- the sunfish
- without conditions
- i know another way
- denial
- to a better place
- church time
- the watch and the ring
- something fishy
- the stopped clock
- doctor
- where do babies come from
- patty o
- the bowling alley barber
- what's your name
- knowing
- medium rare
- this might hurt a little
- veggie plate
- nine inch fry pan
- self reliance
- in a jersey motel
- don't take your love to town
- jimmy lincoln
- queen bees
- next up
- oh really now
- directions
- early words
- the argument
- your crops will rise
- atkins bread
- small things
- sales pitch
- blind date
- rhymes with ibleeda
- the bar of soap
- pointed out
- on her time
- waiting for you
- his blue eyes
- the sun
- few, if any
- for john
- flesh wounds
- march wind
- meteorite
- but it's not me
- go home now
- simply this
- turning home
- idle hands
- rosie next door
- the judge
- in this line
- february
- the axe
- so you hope
- return to sender
- the dog walker
- a gift she'll love
- another country
- red roses
- what day is this?
- your server tonight
- skinny jeans
- gumption
- retirement
- for the birds
- cathedral
- a little more
- sex change
- dance class
- tax season
- don't tell anyone
-
▼
February
(161)
About Me
- Stephen Chute
- west springfield, virginia, United States
- these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
No comments:
Post a Comment