When I steal, I steal big.
I steal the spring
And the birth of flowers.
I capture the giving,
A child’s crush—
Innocent and generous.

Reckless as a clever symphony
designed by the clash of wind and sun
he dances immobile, dazzling,
on this fixture of frail smoke.

Lily had not come to the smoke shop for many months, he had not returned to the café. She had left him to drown or rescue himself and he was still unsure which he would choose.

Mischief, watch your back!

We do not ignore the anxieties. We do not dismiss the darkness. We do not give a cold shoulder to the mayhem or brush off the mischief.

He orders himself a Mexican scramble on tortillas with black beans with a side of bacon, toast and homefries and a can of warm cocacola.

She was sitting in the bathroom
On a little pink carpet
Staring at the toilette water
Her delicate chin
Resting on the toilette bowl
Her right hand
Holding her sculpted long blonde hair

Jesus saves
The battered wreck
He inherited from his father.

Hey Alexa, do you think google reads my email?

Tamara Conniff is the former editor-in-chief of Billboard Magazine. Under her leadership the magazine won Folio’s prestigious Eddie […]