So, I was actually looking for something that would make me MONEY when I applied for the job at Examiner.com. I was up pretty late (shocker) crafting a writing sample to submit and thinking my chances were 50-50. I know I’m a decent writer, but I wasn’t quite sure what they style of writing they had in mind.

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Grandfather smelled like
Andre the Giant, his fur like kenneled dogs
That’s not pain, not death, his breath
A cave

And Nana her smile like an Ice Cream Ripple
Neapolitan swirl, like chocolate wave

Such spoon sweetness, such sweet distance
Only rogue rivers rise as families part

Only faded photographs we save

To think he had wishes for ashes, a plot
Nonetheless, a loss

We at a loss, gathered and tossed, ambling
Into togetherness

In this orbit of mine, I
Yearn to see me whip by

My director’s eye
Slows me down before me

What troubles vex me?
What escape liberates?

My thoughts turn inside
And run down a crevice in my cheek

To think that’s all I can future see

claws deep beneath
hidden convinced
even as she draws them out

she thinks they can skewer olives
be party favors
or merely break
skin

I lick my paws
she thinks
to hide my tail

on a hammock in your soul
my heart’s respite quiet
swaying in the cradle of your tenderness

my fingers are there, nestled in your hair
my cheek warmed by your forehead
I am scared it will end and fall
backwards
into the abyss of love
and freefall into the darkness of trust content

She is closer on this road
Country winding unknown toll
Her arm reaches over
As good as breaks, to stop the roll

I swim in her silence, rubbing the bump on my head
And know I’m home

It’s in what we don’t know we feel
In what we do know we kneel, heal

So at her feet sweet solace, I drink from her cup
I reach over and turn the radio up
And we roll together across the bumps and love

and so there you are
after the last stanza
on the page after the story
book closes, not wandering
hardly wondering

just there with me, in glee
and calling for more wine
my next dance, not chance, you see
and not asking for roses
just me

hand in hand, if not, in thought
the same sands on our toes
wet from the waves of time, ebbing, tidings
in the moonglow of what’s to come
we walk

The autumn leaf fell
Lopping through the streetlamp glow
Drifting on a rollercoaster ride
Into my cigarette smoke

My Walden, here on a patio with no chairs
just yet. Just wine
Humble way station
Quiet sanctuary of mine