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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Thursday, September 9, 2021
unfixable
we talk about broken things.
glasses
and bones.
hearts
and homes.
the debris of life,
some swept and tossed
away, so much
unfixable while
others are mended
with wire and scotch tape.
it's difficult at times
to decide what to trash,
or what to save.
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will they miss me when i'm gone
when you first realized it wasn't love
awaiting a wave
will i miss september
with hands pressed together
how to get your way
your so called poetry
terms of endearment
the Ephesus rugs
being hopeful
that's all she knows
the nice man from medicare
saint joan
the meet up group
with scissors in hands
the nearest exit heading south
three payments of 29.99
blood on the pillow
what do you want?
saying farewell at the bus depot
room 100
it's so you
a new season
hope and despair
when the child lets go
a room by the sea
a book left open
the tin of ashes
fire and ice
as the snow rises
if i were famous
guilty pleasures
i'd like to remember her that way
at last we know
going out with a bang
let's have another round
blue suede shoes
dolores
beating the light
the family portrait
the suit of grey
you are home
the black umbrella
this is what i do
down to a trickle
no one at the wheel
p.s. i love you
the cat's eye marble
those that will never lack
the cliche club
maybe we should wait on the flowers
lost in space
before the waiting bed
the broken glass
the long game
so much lifting
fish in a barrel
the catch all drawer
tea talk
The Tiffany Wedding Cake
duck fat
it was just my turn
get back in the saddle?
the village called
the gravy train
have you been outside today?
do you want to hold my baby?
there is hell to pay
the boat wedding
first world problems
where are my galoshes?
one hundred per cent
on little cat's feet
get out of there
the nine to five trap
Dixie was her name
one down, begins with L
let's just fool around
i was going to write a poem
who will kill the spider?
Lilly is Fine
mid century modern
life is too long
you wonder why we drink
local fear
who needs them
some years are like that too
well mannered
what was it like?
rarely is parting sweet sorrow
going old school
just lie there for awhile
the prom queen and the physics teacher
update your resume
nearly always grey
the admiral
finding bottom
this feels like home
which side of the bed
what next?
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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
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