Bus Ride

naked desert unravels at her toes.
asphalt ribbon, the busstop, and she sits alone.
knees close, back and forth she rocks.
the dust comet,
and a bus draws near.
open door. one step, two.
leans closely.
her words spill from raspberry lips,
drip from the ear,
soft down his nape.
"one ticket to mars."

Solanna

Blink

"So, where are you from?"

"I don't know, everywhere I suppose."

"What kind of answer is that, 'everywhere I suppose'?"

"It means that it depends on how you define 'home.'"

"'Home is where the heart is.'"

"Oh, well shit, if you're going to play that game, then I have noidea where home is."

Forrest

Classified

Biracial Widower seeks companion. Single Communist needs kick-dog. Must wear glasses. Must wear violet contacts like his ex girlfriend. Must know more about Miles Davis than I do. Must agree about conspiracy theories. Must break out in commercial jingles. Must not have Hamlet complex. Must not have bald man fetish. Sandal-wearers need not apply.

squires