Today is quiet and I feel other lives touching mine—and they are mine, except I can’t reach [the past] them. Books will steal your brain and leave a kaleidoscope in its place. I am restless and angry with myself. I am going to carry binoculars around so I can see what those trees are doing so far out in the lake—looks like it’s going to rain again. [A rabbit! Behind the fence.] We’ll meet on my neighbour’s roof.
—phone notes, June
The prompt: “when I speak of hunger I speak of – continue from this”
Feel free to try out the prompt and share your result in the comments, I’d love to read it.
Published on Lines + Stars // been writing better poems and sending them out for publication.
There is a woman in a red bathrobe crawling in the street. Cars slow down but no one gets out. We are mute and strange.
Her long hair clings to her back. A stray dog licks her face and rolls over. It does not move again. She takes off her robe and covers the dog.
She stands, naked.
We pay for our coffees and leave.