Next summer


The water pools under her dirty feet Dark and clay-like they sink further into the murky deep “Stick to me like glue , “she thinks There’s always next summer to get you clean The water swirls in her dirty sink I’ve been washing these hands for years it seems The cracks are trials of yet another week But there’s always next summer to get you clean The water ebbs at her bended knees I’ve been waiting on them for decades in silent plea So stiff and weary from years of no belief There’s always next summer to get you clean … Continue reading Next summer

Friday Fictioneers


Tired of frostbite , HD decided to try his luck in the personal ads: I’m looking to meet the girl who melts my heart . I’m usually the one who is accused of being a little frosty at first but when you get to know me , I’m super chill . I’m not always cool but I wanna meet some gals who are not expecting lukewarm or watered down company . I’m not into curdling but if you think your the cream of the crop, maybe we can make it rain .. snow or sleet. I’ll shake things up for … Continue reading Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers


rochellewisoff.com/2019/07/24/26-july-2019/ ”Edith, what on earth are you writing? I swear you are too much! ” Edith’s friend had an abundant, round face that showed how amused she was by Edith’s ardent participation in the re-enactment exercise, cleverly made possible by the owners of the Dracula Travel Train. Edith however, continued to write furiously. Dear J: “I have at last escaped from the Count and am anxiously awaiting the due diligence to deliver me to safety. I must say the locals are not so helpful and forthcoming as previously surmised. Haste is of utmost importance ! Both women were startled by … Continue reading Friday Fictioneers

Black Water


I would say I hate you but I hate me more I drained the bath water then dove headfirst into remiss or a longing that’s called a nightmare , the abyss I siphoned the filth out of my weeping lungs and choked on my bitter tongue With that violent chasm I sputtered half dead and drowned the last little bit of sad the proverbial baby and all jazz out with the dirty wash I thought you ‘d go but then I heard you snoring  or wheezing or maybe reeling as I rolled over and smothered that thought of missing your lips … Continue reading Black Water