skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
poetry and prose by stephen chute
Friday, March 19, 2010
i like
the sublime
irony
of the penny,
it's nearly
worthless
value, a
thin coin
of copper
holding the
image of
dear saint
abe.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Followers
Blog Archive
►
2024
(2513)
►
November
(57)
►
October
(229)
►
September
(231)
►
August
(235)
►
July
(224)
►
June
(233)
►
May
(243)
►
April
(218)
►
March
(248)
►
February
(258)
►
January
(337)
►
2023
(3264)
►
December
(285)
►
November
(259)
►
October
(265)
►
September
(299)
►
August
(269)
►
July
(334)
►
June
(297)
►
May
(283)
►
April
(223)
►
March
(295)
►
February
(238)
►
January
(217)
►
2022
(2882)
►
December
(319)
►
November
(241)
►
October
(215)
►
September
(167)
►
August
(199)
►
July
(209)
►
June
(249)
►
May
(216)
►
April
(269)
►
March
(257)
►
February
(252)
►
January
(289)
►
2021
(3094)
►
December
(244)
►
November
(264)
►
October
(248)
►
September
(219)
►
August
(219)
►
July
(221)
►
June
(245)
►
May
(259)
►
April
(302)
►
March
(284)
►
February
(242)
►
January
(347)
►
2020
(2595)
►
December
(361)
►
November
(338)
►
October
(242)
►
September
(200)
►
August
(204)
►
July
(191)
►
June
(132)
►
May
(143)
►
April
(170)
►
March
(186)
►
February
(221)
►
January
(207)
►
2019
(2074)
►
December
(274)
►
November
(233)
►
October
(232)
►
September
(193)
►
August
(190)
►
July
(233)
►
June
(190)
►
May
(162)
►
April
(105)
►
March
(120)
►
February
(77)
►
January
(65)
►
2018
(1224)
►
December
(101)
►
November
(92)
►
October
(52)
►
September
(95)
►
August
(87)
►
July
(82)
►
June
(120)
►
May
(140)
►
April
(84)
►
March
(112)
►
February
(116)
►
January
(143)
►
2017
(1775)
►
December
(171)
►
November
(169)
►
October
(151)
►
September
(156)
►
August
(180)
►
July
(201)
►
June
(122)
►
May
(104)
►
April
(121)
►
March
(123)
►
February
(124)
►
January
(153)
►
2016
(2658)
►
December
(131)
►
November
(160)
►
October
(184)
►
September
(203)
►
August
(256)
►
July
(236)
►
June
(262)
►
May
(262)
►
April
(272)
►
March
(321)
►
February
(174)
►
January
(197)
►
2015
(1839)
►
December
(153)
►
November
(144)
►
October
(127)
►
September
(113)
►
August
(137)
►
July
(134)
►
June
(160)
►
May
(161)
►
April
(151)
►
March
(185)
►
February
(176)
►
January
(198)
►
2014
(2208)
►
December
(210)
►
November
(198)
►
October
(195)
►
September
(274)
►
August
(256)
►
July
(178)
►
June
(173)
►
May
(146)
►
April
(160)
►
March
(147)
►
February
(134)
►
January
(137)
►
2013
(1558)
►
December
(99)
►
November
(106)
►
October
(122)
►
September
(103)
►
August
(98)
►
July
(122)
►
June
(156)
►
May
(114)
►
April
(139)
►
March
(131)
►
February
(161)
►
January
(207)
►
2012
(1846)
►
December
(195)
►
November
(196)
►
October
(221)
►
September
(139)
►
August
(165)
►
July
(158)
►
June
(159)
►
May
(154)
►
April
(122)
►
March
(130)
►
February
(114)
►
January
(93)
►
2011
(1420)
►
December
(71)
►
November
(79)
►
October
(101)
►
September
(112)
►
August
(96)
►
July
(109)
►
June
(114)
►
May
(139)
►
April
(135)
►
March
(143)
►
February
(134)
►
January
(187)
▼
2010
(1401)
►
December
(171)
►
November
(153)
►
October
(92)
►
September
(113)
►
August
(137)
►
July
(177)
►
June
(157)
►
May
(126)
►
April
(69)
▼
March
(83)
dead plants
the long distance runner
one more
birth
day in day out
lunch
bird boy
cleaning house
time
the earth let's out a sigh, and the wind blows acr...
no title
there is too much eating going on. look in the mir...
the rain
lost buttons
opening day
this home
sail on
kenmore
i wake up and find the remnants of you everywhere,...
upstream, i swim arm over arm, kicking my legs in ...
sometimes
no fishing
fresh season
shades of blue
slow fire
no flowers, please
she tells me
pot holes
Eden
a new deck
a summer treat
i call out
Moe
the apology
the window
spring
the sunday call
white nurse shoes
swan dive
i like
notes to myself
these fish that i can almost grab in the green swi...
red white and very blue
newly weds
a wrinkle in time
doubt
one morning
she used to be an actress of some note. and could ...
no exit
the purse
i believe that
the bread line
the last page first
death of a friend
charge it
assorted fruits
the ink pen
3 a.m..
magic
central park
her voice was like scotch at the end of a friday n...
green men
the horse
there is
dry
dinner
making contact
love at first sight
a summer dress
i remember
on the corner, near an abandoned school, there is ...
you can smell the earth burn on the wind, as it sw...
mexico
travel tips
venus
date night
changes
voice mail
lifting weights
art
your mother
a reason to leave
St. Elizabeth's
►
February
(67)
►
January
(56)
►
2009
(230)
►
December
(46)
►
November
(42)
►
October
(46)
►
September
(60)
►
August
(36)
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.
View my complete profile
No comments:
Post a Comment