Linda Scribbles











Cranky

Off-hand, broadside good intentions,

Oncoming semi– thoughtless, halfbaked concern.

Crumpled burning pumping thing,

ache-and-anger-exhaust piping throat.

Salt in water won’t stop the day, the work.

But ‘don’t mind,

don’t worry,

you hear too much,

let it drop,

don’t see already.’

Bus ticket fantasy.

Verbal bombs don’t leave bruises.

Lucky me.

Itch

What do you do

when your soul itches?

How do you scratch?

Ants in your bones–

hiccups in your heart–

a compulsion in your arms–

a kind of helpless,

hopeless desperation

to move. Muscles

remembering

a dance,

a flight,

a kinetic explosion

that they’ve never–

that you recall–

Never mind.

They do.

Weapons

Calluses on the

tip of my tongue

serrated edges

points wet sharp

throat hold tight

dear life

dear god

forgive the scars

on lips and ears

taste the blood in all the fears

iron knows itself

honed and hot

sheath me not

teeth and gums

were never meant

for this.

In the window

Darling, please–

see my neon

heart.

Buzzing, bright

idea of heat.

Electric beast,

a flickering

beat.

OPEN

VACANCY

ALL HOURS

FREE

See it beckon,

see it beg;

tubing burning

ionized hope.

All things willing,

you don’t mind lead.

Not Ready

I worry the universe

is answering long asked questions.

The way one tries

to never deny

a dying child

any request.

Tying up loose threads

at the end

of an epic

you find you’ve

lost interest in writing.

Hope (A year. And two.)

Begrudge them? Never.

Envy? Maybe.

Heartache mostly.

A little bit,

“Where’s my baby?”

Not demanding

a cut of mommy-life pie–

a strange search more

for a you who wasn’t.

Not really.

Confused sense that you,

who aren’t yet,

have simply been

mislaid.

Thank you.

Belated birthday

love you text

a month early–

silly, heart swell,

quick morning call.

Not my birthday,

not yet, it’s okay.

Catching up, everyone–

all fine, all good.

Normal, short, five words

stretch.  Nice to talk,

time to stop.

Feeling blows to heartspill.

I couldn’t tell you why.

I guess I’m homesick for your smile.

I guess I need you still.

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