Jupiter, Heartburn, Tomorrow
Seventeen year old Emily Robinson looked through the telescope at the far away planet Jupiter.
“I wish we could live there,” she said, bored. “It’s so much prettier than Mars!” She kicked the pink dust under her feet. Here, the sky was red, the ground was red. The dust that accumulated on their instruments was um, oh yea… red. Read the rest of this entry
Porch, Eagle, Binoculars
The old man sat in the old wooden rocker on his back porch all afternoon. His friends used to call him Red, due to the hair that used to grace the top of his head. It was mostly gone now, and what was left sure wasn’t red anymore. The friends were gone too, but he hardly cared about that. Red had a great backyard; it oversaw a small lake and part of a mountain range. Tango, North Dakota. About as far north in the USA as you can get without coming south again, he used to joke. You could hold a camera up out here and take a perfect picture without ever looking in the viewfinder. Read the rest of this entry
Blood, Red, Hands
I stood in the kitchen chopping up food
to go in the pot and somehow taste good,
While I crooned to my baby and watch for my son
(who thinks stopping the toilet with Barbie is fun). Read the rest of this entry
