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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Wednesday, February 9, 2022
the splinter
it's a small red
splinter,
a wooden speck
that's
lodged into the tip
of my small
finger.
a hard push of the back
gate
and there it was,
under skin.
unmovable and dark.
and the day
was going so well.
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we digress
lighting the fire
was it a good life
breaking news
she falls asleep
let's tie a ribbon around it
back on the horse
just one stone
the early lies are the worst
the meat of genius
what the world gives
too much of a good thing
my piano teacher
one never knows
bond, james bond
marshall hall amusement park
and a picture of you
today is a good day for soup
the nickel bag
yeah, we had a baby
endurance
buy this
the daily news
brushing lives aside
becoming a saint
those wonderful dreary days
the Delmonico steak joint
the photo op
the obituary writer
most of the commandments
sixth grade report card
my kind of people
the art closet
gathering nuts
who the hell is Bixby?
what's your problem?
who are these people?
hot pastrami on rye with a pickle
i'm listening, go on...
a days work
a youthful wonder
we can find it together
the laminated card
catholic school
face to the wind
call it done
awaken in your day
i'll see you again
almost without us
romeo, pfffft
two to tango
a shade of blue
teasing
the overdue book
i didn't hear you
covered in hot pastrami
back door man
lighting a candle
dial set in the middle
Frost
nothing is lost
the irishman
the highland
let's lie here for a while
are we on the right train?
either side of the tracks
starkers
down 5th avenue
leaving and returning
Herman the Celebrant
changes in latitudes
low maintenance
when the thrill is gone
there was something
they're dredging the pond
the blur of days
the abstract marriage
going forward
never too early for champagne
it's nice to be loved
asleep in Seattle
going soft
you should have seen me back then
move the sun closer
do the math
wedding rings on e-bay
pick ups on thursday
featherless chickens
hit the road jack
gooey and awful
global warming
the vibrating bed
something german maybe
who are these people?
should i buy a chainsaw?
the heart shaped bed
three different kinds of lettuce
the game has changed
packing shoes
tell the engineer to roll slowly
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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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