Author Archives: Catastrophe Jones
What we give up
You are a shining piece of me, and all that I entrust to you, is no longer mine, but ours.
To Taste Starlight
You hold me each time when we decide as we decide to go in the fashion we choose. I twine my fingers with yours and we tell one another stories of threadbare memory, trying to keep alive ages long past, … Continue reading
Pieces you lay down
Awake. Wife handles the kids, while he eats, showers, hurries off to work. He stares at spreadsheets for hours, all the brilliance of his day fading in the moments where his gaze glasses over, and the hand holding the coffee … Continue reading
Forgotten Summers
At times, I have grasped the stalk and seedhead of wild grasses, on my journeys through dew-marked spiderwebs and the blueflowered chicory that closes when the sun is too hot, and I have been both old and young at once, … Continue reading
Before I forget
Before I forget, let me say that I occasionally want to reach through the nothing but time, distance, air, electrons that separate us, and grab hold of you by the throat. I want to pull you back to me, and … Continue reading