55 Friday Flash; war

Ask

me to dance.

Ask me tonight,

or else.

If I ask you,

will you stay all night?

Will you ease the darkness

of my fight?

(I must fight

this one alone,

in a war I cannot

hold my own.)




You can dance.

I’m shot down.

IF a wheelchair

brings me home,


cancer’s war

won?

 
(This is a tough week for a 30 year old and his family.  Activities of daily life as a paraplegic are no longer the only options, each day of life is the option, with the third diagnosis in three months of an aggressive cancer.)

Moon-insomnia 55

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Tonight’s sky
holds a gibbus moon
shining sideways,
a dry addict’s spoon.
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The waxing moon
hangs a winkless scowl
heavily lidded
as an angry vow,
-
Snaps a blink
like a blistering whip
against a slave
of a sleepless ship.
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The road ahead:
blood dried black
as a blind dog’s nose on
an old, cold track.
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This is a Flash Fiction 55 word poem.  If you have one, or a story, post it friday and let G-Man know HERE

55 Flash Fiction Friday

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Where have all the muses gone


from loins

thighs

fingers

and sighs?



Stuck to the bottom of a

sticky oatmeal pot,

slab-hard meat locker,

stale smoke stairwell,

slimy greasy griddle,

slicing queasy toothache,

Sangria bottle drunk half down

no end in sight?



Grinning at the moon,

blue and ringed round by rainbows,

she returns a swoon.
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All rights reserved.

55 Flash Fiction Friday

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And Then There Was That
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We had a lunch date.
You pushed it back 15 minutes.
Was that just to shorten our time together? You were late!
I wondered, when would you ever get out of the bathroom?
I really didn’t think you were interested anymore.
Then I caught the look in your eye,
watching me unobserved,
through the doorway.
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----(photo here and on profile by Jillian Standish)