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Dean Kirkland

Mouthfeel

http://mouthfeel.wordpress.com/

Located in

Last update: February 5th, 2013 at 12:54 pm

ping: http://ignoregon.com/ping/1785

3 post clicks in the past 90 days

I must write every day and this is where I do it.

They’ll never spawn; these fish,Drained of their life’s purpose,Fill a stream with leaping rainbows.

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Like a dog-eared book corner, The cat’s upward-thrust leg marks the spot she was washing Before headlights on the wall Drew her eye Dazzling her Making her lose- just for a moment- her place in the bath.

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Glossy blackbirds gobbling Even brighter scarlet berries. They hop from bush to bush Until- too drunk to drag themselves Around- they take to the sky.

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She’s dancing toward me But not for me Breasts jouncing Stomach undulating Hips twitching Left Right Left Gaze fixed steadily just above my right shoulder. A chirrup of zills a flick of her hair she whirls away Rose and patchouli in her wake. Snatching up a veil, she drapes it To cover her face not [...]

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I don’t condone these violet ways. Your psycho path, friend, concerns me. Like swimming through honey- your deep malaise- Still I don’t condone these violet ways. Noodling with wallflowers at hip soirees; Breathing foulness into ears so yearny. I don’t condone these violet ways. You’re a psychopath.

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Loose hairs drop out and wisdom and ramen; the old man twiddling his beard.

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frosting at the corner of your mouth. Is this the excuse I’m longing for to touch your lips?

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Glitterless cards. Denuded velvet chocolates boxes. Kewpie dolls with their curl- Like the final filip on a soft serve cone- Bit off savagely. (Who does that?) Cardboard cupids nurse hangovers. Red paper ribbon winding its way across the floor, Through the pool of rubbed off glitter, To a chair behind the counter. A woman i

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They say seafood is an acquired taste but By the time I turned thirteen I knew I loved muscles. Some folks like to stick with local producers. Provenance is no impediment to me- Imported? Domestic? Artificially stimulated? Hell, they all look good. I’ve heard that you should stay away From oysters in months whose name

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You were always so good at awkwardness. Always so good at dealing with awkwardness is what I meant to say. All those little moments- Forgetting someone’s name Introducing them by the wrong one Beginning to tell an anecdote that was never to be shared To the person who had secretly been gossiped about- Little moments [

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How can I tell if I am pregnant How can I tell if my dog is pregnant How can I tell if a guy likes me How can I tell if my phone is tapped How can I tell if my cat is pregnant How can I tell if a girl likes me How can [...]

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in the Dark at the back of the cupboard I found a Potato you left behind when you left me to clean up your mess when you left me it was small and soft, a little shriveled, its Heart was Dark like yours mother. (Women and vegetables rot from the inside, you said, and who [...]

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She tripped over a tree root and stumbled. He caught her by an elbow to stop her fall, steadied her With a hand on each shoulder and a kiss on the nose. He looked up at the sky. Brought his hands together sharply- twice. A moment of darkness before he repeated the motion just once [...]

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tots at the clinic: free-ranging charmers spread their sweet smiles and fresh germs

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black bird against blue sky framed by still bare branches. crows eat anything

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The world is much more so When I’m trying to fall asleep: Bubbles in the Perrier pinging against their green glass prison; Cats who discreetly waited till after midnight to consummate their lust; Unread and partially read books jostling for position in the bedside pile; Chocolate with sea salt and chocolate with ginge

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All I wanted to do was wrap up in my Snuggie, Play games on my laptop, maybe eat a little chocolate. You were going to the store and wanted me to go with But I have cramps & my back hurts & I really don’t care If anybody eats again as long as they leave [...]

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On rickety legs and sturdy canes they cross the parking lot. Well-groomed but unassuming. The old man sporting a crisp white shirt and bolo tie; the old woman in a newly de-pilled green cardigan. She is not wearing a head scarf because she is not Russian and the weatherman has not predicted rain. (She has [...]

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As if all cats were queen And our job is too serve, To carry her little handbag, To make her crown secure, To tie her silk head scarf, Freshen her loo with greenery, Drive her to the country Should she want a change of scenery, Take charge of her meals, Don’t let her feet get [...]

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Grandmas’ hands should be boney and knurled. Hers are puffed up because her heart is failing. Puffy as the bread dough she kneads. Flour-filled ditches criss-cross her hands like Irrigation tracks on the farm. Venusian canals meander and wind- Double-yellow lines laid down by a drunk. How did you feel when you mixed u

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Roadside poppies Made adamantine By last night’s rain Shone in this morning’s sun Like Maureen’s fresh-painted toenails.

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Mister skateboarder, thinking you’re cool; Flexing and posing on the way to school. You think you’re so hot. You think you’re really cooking But I saw you hitch your shorts up when you thought no one was looking.

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I must not try to read. I must not try to read and eat. I must not try to read and eat at the same time. I must not try to read and eat at the same time in bed. I must not try to read and eat at the same time in bed when [...]

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I’m going to Jerusalem and I’m going to take Whatever’s within arm’s reach in my bedroom: Clearasil, vanilla body spray, A carton of organic potato-leek soup, Converse high-tops, Converse low-tops, And Goldfish and Goldfish and Goldfish. Graham crackers, oyster crackers, Leopard print slippers, A clo

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“A bird in the hand can get lonely,” Mother’s robotic voice whirs. “If all the other kids jump off a cliff-” But why should I listen to her? She raised us with licks and no promise, Spat out like watermelon seeds. We’re floating downstream with no future; Baby Moses in our leaky beds of r

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Old enough now to Face the truth: I’ll never be A child prodigy.

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Spring rolls, chow mein, rice are next door. Hunger tempts me; Duty holds me fast.

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She said You craved love- too Much was never enough. Turns out I misheard. What she’d said Was “blood.” This poem was inspired by a prompt by @robertleebrewer as I’m working my way through his 2010 Poem A Day site. The challenge was to write a poem with the title “Partly (blank).” Thanks,

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Chill of the library floor rose to meet her grateful soles. (The broken flip flop and its mate now slung in the bag on her back.) Sunlight and fluorescent light filtered through the stacks- Playing shadows on her face- as she padded among them. Distracted by a random idea, she lost her footing; Plunged headfirst [...]

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When she opened the box we were her favorites- Cornflower Blue and Indian Red. Together we made summer skies and meadows, Blue baby doll eyes, teddy bears, and hay-filled barns. Other colors came along and she tried them- Macaroni and Cheese, Tumbleweed, Tickle Me Pink- But we were the ones she carried in her pocket [...]

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