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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Friday, September 8, 2017
the roar of her
if she was an animal,
i'd say
lion. that beautiful
mane,
those brown eyes.
the scratching,
the biting,
the dragging me around
by the nape of
my neck into her den.
not to mention
the roar of her.
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tomorrows ink
gold rush
they're watching
what does that mean?
the ice cream
you don't mess around
fall back
the spell
this is the end
dark bird
retro girl
at a certain age
hospice
falling birds
a new skin
alternative means
let's jump out of a plane
nothing lost
back pedal
these days are numbered
trivial news
blue wind
a piece of chocolate
the tepid sea
a new church
the game
it won't be the same
the unknown
the cold soup
the third martini
the fever
ah oh
they don't know
a busy God
conversation
holding a sign
room 1201 north
the white shells
only monday
put your hands up
where are we now
in between
the red wagon
seeing the light
i have to go now
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be good
a summers day
the last page
slow boat to china
to forget
the apple
when it's over
early xmas
enough
the song
short love
three meals and a bed
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the three day weekend
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free range
the one that got away
the dog trainer
come morning
love and friendship
champagne love
get over it
caught in the rain
does she dream
keep going
keep going
thinking about baseball
Stella
hanging on
the last piece
that screeching sound
not like that
toll booth love
seeing green
nothing else to do
the HOA
the safe
the vampire years
charity bucket
just a rumor
friday night
quiet desperation
three cats
zoo girl
pure and true
go slow
go slow
go as two
a higher power
the best part
shopping late on a sunday night
half way there
the separation
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About Me
Stephen Chute
west springfield, virginia, United States
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters, and in no way represent any living or dead people...any similarities are simply coincidental.
View my complete profile
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