p.m.
dim-time, quiet,
everybody
drunk on books/
miscellaneous
a.m.
today’s disaster movie
in production
on the burner,
simmering brown
in tinfoil
The kids tire of Scrabble
They tease out three- and four-letter words till one of them, precocious little shit, lands ennui.
if you keep looking at me like that, sending memories my way
we’re heading
for trouble
and you
know
it
minimal pair
She tells him to sail his shit along.
Ship, he says, and casts off.
Kevin lives and plays in Frankfurt on The Main. He co-edits fiction at Word Riot. Links to his work are at http://www.kevsville.blogspot.com/.
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