Wednesday, January 5, 2011


His excuse was plausible enough.
That old, rusted Buick had stalled
on the interstate until a Good Samaritan
had stopped and helped him out. 

His kiss was soft enough.
The sweet smell of whiskey hadn't
tainted his tongue and seeped into
his sweat-soaked work shirt.

Her heart was open enough.
She willingly fell into his arms and
into bed, but wondered if that Good Samaritan
had been wearing lipstick.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Moving Forward

I care nothing for innovation.
A smile to
a stranger, that's real progress.

Never Say a Commonplace Thing © 2010

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