Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

Dance of the Three-Legged Stool

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by Howie Good      The Tea Room (Part 4)  >


1

We’re characters

in each other’s stories.

Her hair is the color

of 52-year-old bourbon.

There are flowers

we could eat.

 

2

Dry white crumbs on the table.

Shadows graffiti a wall.

It helps the time go faster.

 

3

A bird whistles

like a bullet

from a high-

powered rifle.

 

I look back

over my shoulder.

Nothing there

but light

 

shining off

every available

surface.

  

published 28 March 2012