skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
poetry and prose by stephen chute
Sunday, October 3, 2021
things will slow down
you tell yourself
that soon things will slow down.
by fall
or winter, or by
next spring.
but instead it speeds up
even more.
more
begets more
and the carousel continues
to go around
and around
while you lie wearily
in a bed of
money
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Followers
Blog Archive
►
2024
(2530)
►
November
(74)
►
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)
the lone indian kid
the horror
tap dancing
living larger
a cold front moving through
the first date desire
strangely content
the moral dilemma
we are men, we fix things
green jello in the air
really, split pea soup?
wretched weather
the scarecrow
any minute now
i give a zero on that delivery
she had that going for her
marriage counseling
nothing has changed
the little mouse maze
the perils of pauline
one cold cat
down to the bone
who are you, exactly?
opening the curtains
no school bus
the fear is here to stay
the end of us
perfectly imperfect
when God pokes you in the eye
a house with roses
asleep below the stars
making room for something new
when karma shows up
the gourmet photos
Get out of the way, i can't see the tv
before leaving
a good month to be in love
loosening her Chico khakis
the alimony check
you seem tense
the crazy new norm
the halloween stock market
the confession app
grandma's perfume
holiday shopping
there's a knock at the door
the first cut is the deepest
is that gun loaded?
Macy's one clerk
the tragedy of spilled milk
use it sparingly
we know our roles
no funny bone
fixing the marriage sex camp
struck by lightning
the learning curve
Wiggly was like that too
the stepford restaurant
regretting the lamb
up on the high wire
what has to be done
more leaves will come
late night to the P.O.
you do go on, don't you?
the queen bee
a bad cup of coffee
can i get a price check on this pineapple
then they make you grow up
you'll never find another love like mine
no loneliness quite like that
the late afternoon party
this is what men do, he said
organic chips
the blues bar
she used to stand right there
too bad for him
the ripple of us
when the moon fell apart
the summer vacation
down goes muffy
be like the blue cup
stay away
the wrong thing to do
kissing Fido
destiny calls
oh really, i write too
the orange poem
the blue light peel
a fresh pot of coffee
Hail Caesar
come on, let's go out
tired of the battle
the church restaurant
the early to rise morning
what about Amy
have you seen the blonde nurse yet?
moth into the light
our dearly departed
part A and part B
failed bread
►
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)
►
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