morning
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I pray I still have coffee.Find a pod.Plop and push—she percolateswarm brown juice. Grab a enameled steel mug with a handle,but make the oats in a white bowl first—microwaves and steel don’t mix.I’m sure there’s a dead cat somewherewhen I tried.Pour them in after,add blueberries and walnuts because I read they’re good for you.But blueberries…
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armor against the daggers of the world I have these beads, worn smooth, heavy with the weight of grief, prayer beads, perhaps, oiled by the endless rolling through sprocket teeth, like fingertips tracing the edges of a forgotten dream. They lie in wait, recoiled upon a black lacquered table, ready to take their place at…
BB Grey--musings 