one line wonder

A place to rant, rave, and ramble about anything and everything.


to be in pain

is to be in love

so we must all strive

for a painful life.


i say i want to change the world

but i don’t know where to step first

all i can do

is make sure

i don’t step

on someone else.


am i a hypocrite

for shaving my armpits

but not my legs

citing time saved

and the wrong type of men turned away

am i a hypocrite

for listening to kendrick lamar

and kanye west

with my windows rolled up

even though their words are important

am i a hypocrite

when i read feminist literature

but still talk about

the differences between

men and women

am i a hypocrite

for wondering

if i am a hypocrite?

i’m a rattlesnake babe.

swirling into bed

i heard a whisper

a sweet poem

a note

of utter happiness

and i fell asleep with a smile on my face,

humming along,

singing to the tune

that i made up

just minutes ago.


a sweet smell of sweat

leaks in

i breathe it up through

my nostrils and revel

in the taste that i can almost taste.


it reminds me of that time

that i ran a million miles

or was it three?

that time when i wandered in a forest alone

when i walked cobblestoned streets alone

when i would wake up alone

in the early morning light

hot and sticky with my sweet smelling sweat

and dreams of what i might do


running to yoga.

it’s hot so i ran

to yoga class today

the breeze whistled by

as i literally ran late.

but i didn’t mind

because the streets were so full

i ran and i ran

until i couldn’t anymore

red light.

then just when i was feeling

a little bit tired

and hot

and sweaty

i got to my class

and got to feel


and hot

and sweaty

all over again.

morning walk.

a breath in

and one out as well

a growl

a snarl

but gentle, as if to say

I am a friend for now

but not for long

if you don’t get out of my way

i stepped aside as the truck growled on by

and an amicable wave came from the window

i walked onward

to classes

to friends

to foes

and all the ones in between.

the future.

the future is as scary

as a fire breathing dragon

mostly because


i have never seen a fire breathing dragon

so i’m not so sure

that it could even exist.

truth & me & you.

Truth comes out softly

Like a whispering font

Or disappearing ink

I always turn around

And take another look

But by then it’s gone again

Truth comes out boldly

Like a steady, pounding drum

Or feelings finally coming out

I always see the colour

But miss the words

And then it’s gone already

Truth comes out of you

Like the way you say my name

And smile with your whole face

I always catch your words

And hold them for a while

But I forget them all in the end

Truth hides inside of me

Like a child forgotten in a game

Or a sign being taken down

I get a glimpse or two

And close my eyes to remember

But it always slips away in the end.

crewneck sweater.

He couldn’t fit into his blue crewneck sweater anymore. Which sucks because it’s a fucking sweater. Those things are supposed to get you through Thanksgiving and Christmas and old age. But he looked in the mirror and saw his gut hanging out from under the blue stretchy rim of fabric.

God fucking dammit, He swore as he tore it off and threw it on the floor. He walked into the kitchen and opened up a beer, swung himself on the couch and splayed his legs into a comfortable position.

It was ironic, really. He was a fucking gym teacher at the school he worked at. He whistled at kids to run faster then had to take three deep breaths to recover from the strain. He couldn’t remember how it happened. He had worn that sweater every winter since his freshman year in college. He’d had sex in that sweater and watched porn in that sweater and stole street signs in that sweater and skipped class in that sweater and swung at speedballs in that sweater and used to fit in that sweater.

Then he graduated and fell in love and gave up his dreams of the major leagues to work in the same town as her then fell out of love then moved towns then drank beer then drank beer then drank beer.

He got up and took the sweater in his hands. He balled it up and threw it outside in the freshly fallen snow. Then he went outside and brought it back in. He laid it out on the floor, took the last swig of his beer and pissed all over that fucking sweater.

He let it stay on his living room floor for a week before he washed it and folded it and took it to the Salvation Army across the street so some other fucker could take his turn in it.


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