THE WORK | Scribelogik

Paramedic (2020)

Jupiter blue drones behind my damp twinge-ridden back, noise blending with huffs and chuffs that suck at the n95 and cycle fog through...

This slat is the pale painted record, how angels lengthened their bones - pencil-mark measures drawn across, layered like strata in a...

That pennant snaps and dances as the breeze picks up from left, as the jaunty organ echoes from the angles of the outfield washing-...

Gaia has been casually cruel the past four weeks: this fine Georgian colonial, skirted with a glacis of friable straw stalks and dirt and...

recalling the death of my father Into the gray-swayed depth of ocean, current-stroked, settling slowly, shimmer fading to the dull and...

The weird, wandering double track cowers below sun-smothering trolls of grey vapor haloed and thick- wreathed, birthing wind-shriven...

Pine Mountain Slide Iron Mountain, Michigan. 1957 Temp is near zero and it has breezed-up, but it’s not a patch to a Mainer who’s...

Every lonely foot-scuff whispers dull in the gray prelude to morning, the flowers of this month have found no purchase amidst these...

To call this pace “plodding” would be a horrific insult to plods Even as I climb the rising asphalt hide of this hill — In my...

The flame of inspiration is not well stoked using digital paper: No matter how hard or rapidly you swipe no ember shall shine sizzling at...

It is not the c e n t e r that first fails. That falls. That pours empty It is the gray on the edges… A take for granted, no...

The hands of my child hold warm, A joined fluttering clasp Full with humming bird thrums. What eager tale is formed By these soft...

A stealthy troop we are not, in this camp - A minefield patch of roots and stones That grab the toes and clutch the arches In the chase -...

I did not salute you. I was girls and baseball and Star Wars tracing "AC/DC" on brown-bag book covers a lip-gnawing priority over...

Someone quoted “fiat lux” to me, So much the drama, but I definitely don’t want a light. I’ve already red–shifted. I wish I could talk...

And, you’re 10 years old… Your parents are moving you from the only house you’ve known from your friends and school and teammates and all...

The mother of a friend was desperate for new lungs Yet when a likely donor delved finally down into the grave His parting gift lacked...

I ride the burning arrow of autumn chasing Luna’s ivory sickle, a conflagration of trees the steaming shades of carved suns and...

Induction – transverse waves of patriotic power, Faraday flux of flag-wrapped charisma Applied – ZAP – like copper-wrapped paddles: A...

Poem written in the Irish style of Conachlonn

Covid 19 times

A Sci-Fi short story

One day - 5 October, 2011

Urban Fantasy very short story