jibber jabber
is all you got sometimes.
a mess of words
strung together,
no reason
no message, no
metaphor, or rhyme.
just a stream of
thoughts,
going nowhere, a
tangled
empty vine.
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2016
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January
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- are you listening
- that's gone too
- dead or alive
- drinking and cooking
- the end is near
- future world leaders
- enough
- just business
- the flow
- untrained
- the food critic
- raising the flag
- found money
- wanting more
- new sod
- held captive
- the fourteenth of february
- uber doctor
- your uncle
- the passing train
- ice cream love
- the boarder
- like you
- fox island
- come to florida
- sauces
- sweet potato
- primitive instinct
- the king of snowballs
- she orders lamb
- the dog eared page
- across the line
- the red umbrella
- the eight count
- like christmas
- i need a knife
- petty thieves
- each seed
- what's unknown
- sick with something
- pink mittens
- check on my cats
- this change
- day four
- enough
- the red bird
- the tax man cometh
- remember the sun
- into the sea
- waiting for spring
- through the white
- i hate snow
- the doctor is in
- men, she sighs
- the sand
- what ticks within
- doing the math
- in with the old
- the last loaf
- quiet time
- new and improved
- which cake to buy
- travel
- the new cutting board
- cold feet
- soup bone
- miss texas
- guilty
- the sleeping
- land things
- in crowds
- so much news
- the market
- apple pie
- singing solo
- the ice box
- no salt no sugar
- faint praise
- moon pie?
- out of reach
- the large pill
- tuesday night
- the best she could
- the middle years
- stepping out
- the end
- wait until spring
- remember when
- flowers and a card
- bring the truck
- it's going to rain
- apartness
- it starts now
- waiting on tomorrow
- gambling fever
- another sister
- shopped out
- notes revisited
- press on
- without words
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January
(197)
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.
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