Navigating a Housing Bubble
She calls with weather reports and says, “We split a potato for dinner.” He might send a picture of a bird on the feeder. That they have money for birdseed is confounding. “Spend it wisely,” I want to caution when she emails yet another cobbler recipe. They head north to open their windows at night, to enjoy the last few moments together before the bank forecloses.
White shoes on her feet,
Mother will bake me peaches
‘til the oven breaks.
I Never Told Anyone About Santa Claus
I never told anyone,
but I thought carpools had water and diving boards.
I never told anyone,
but I invented cellphones when I was seven;
And when I saw mommy, she wasn’t kissing Santa Claus.
I never told anyone,
but I broke the egg-shell roses at Grandma’s house.
I never told anyone,
but I turned on & tuned out before Timothy Leary said to,
Especially when I sat on Santa’s knee;
He couldn’t hurt me.
I never told anyone,
but I ate the orange insides of acorns.
I never told anyone,
but I built a rocket to rush my sister Ruth to the moon,
Because I never told anyone,
but I would have, if I’d seen her with Santa, too.
I’d have told someone then.
Untitled
I am an anxious breeze. I come from the trees, jealous of birds nesting among your fern covered branches. I am fretful, yet curious. I guard my steamy side; my humidity overwhelms. Wet, rainy yet serene, I nap guardedly and dream of the sky.
KJ ROBY's writing has appeared in Hobart, Prolific Press' Inwood Indiana, Pif Magazine, and forthcoming in Constellations, A Journal of Poetry and Fiction. She is a native Floridian, and spends more time reading than is healthy. When she isn't reading and writing, she manages a very small indie bookshop. She graduated with a BA in Politics from what was then Randolph-Macon Woman's College. And, like iconic yellow chance card in the Monopoly game, she once won second place* in a contest and collected $25.00
*It wasn't a beauty contest, but thanks Defenestrationism.com!