http://slow.writerscafe.org/grahamachilles The original writings of author Thaddius en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776070397 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 You're soft of skinhard of dispositionI realize you could be my wifeas you're sipping coffee and I jokeabout how I used to jitter.I knit your little truths into theturtleneck you're wearing,the chain that blocks me from your thoughts,the ideas I twist and start to choke you with.Each.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1668875/ Mywords aren't my words.Thisisn't my home.Thisisn't my body.Thisisn't my mess.Mycats don't know me.Theyscamper on wrappersyowlin vain in aPluto disposal.Itoss in my bedit'san overseas labmaybean ear-placeorsomething unheard of.Awave rocks the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1643427/ Bloodsky breath nod headhooteye steam hot cryripblue sunrise salmonruncoyote doom, hawk thing I spyblurgarden ghost invadingpulseplanet ripple enemyorangeorbs of falling dreamsstarlightcut eternityGaborwill seedo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1637125/ On the sand, he satand croaked,swallowing a cloudof smoke.He stroked his beardwithout a sound,cloaked like Moseson the mount.He strummed alongin 3/4 timewith bongo drums,some fills of mine.Acid, Molly, Ketamine,A j.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1637054/ I hope your ride to Glasgow was ablastI never knew you summered therewas it hotter than the seventhcircledid you bring something to read? I know you didn't get the thingI never sent, it rambled on and onand I nearly choked the la.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1596673/ Itwouldmeana lotifyou could writetosayyouhate meandcan'ttoleratemystupid face I wishyou'd bealittle lessambiguousotherwiseI'mleft withtonsof angry girlswhomake no senseandwh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1584590/ Achedon'ttakemedownwithyouI'vehadenoughofwakingupalone Ifno-oneelse is homewho'lltell mewhereandwhatI am How'sit gothestory of the manwho lived alonewriting .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1584185/ Thegreatest poemwrites itself when no-one's theretotake it down Mywit is betterwhenyou take it with whip-cream  anda grain of salt Onmy death bedI'llconfess I've never hadagood night's sleep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1582168/ Honey, the punchline!It's at the bus stopwhere youkicked it to the curb Jesus, Moses, please!Save us from theblasphemyofindulgent prayers Itasted your juiceItwasn't a mimosabutI'm still thirsty&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1582144/ I'mbegging you, stay, doll,it's me, Byron, and the thinker, what'shis name?Plato, is it?Whata funny name.Don'tstand there, set up!You'reused to this by now,dohurry, I don't have all day,it'sgetting late, and everyone.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1581105/ I want to cite that 'dying of the light' poem from Interstellar (haha), because this has a few similar words and cadences. But, who has a monopoly on light, amiright? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1575973/ It's kind of sick http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1549500/ Fadefast childIdon't love youIdon't love you, noIdon't love you. Youtry to stun my senseswithyour polaroidsandit almost workedIflitted towards the lightlikea histrionic mothcirclingand diving intos.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1546953/ Talkto metitter,purseclick,or lickblowa kissoranythingapillow, bow,a Pixargraphicacure, elixirstoppingtrafficSwoleand soreandchewed and bitpaintedblacklikesedimentspearmintbreath orL.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1544931/ I'mright behind the blackout shadeStonedon cosmetic vestigeMysense of humor's twisted andIhope you get the message I'msmug because it's SundayAndyou're fledgling back homeCurtsying for grandma's friendsandthrowing m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1544208/ inspired by some of my favorite writers... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1543293/ this might be the worst piece of s**t I've writ in awhile http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1543247/ I'msailing down an acid reservoirinmy biohazard gear.Ifish for literary fossilsFromthe first one hundred years. Inet a couple little ones,Toomany to keep track.The skittishthings the big ones eat,So Ihave to throw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1515480/ It's dialogue, but short, so I'll categorize it a poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1510040/ Istroll through the curtain.Breezeby three or four girls andsettlein my spot.Thestalker comes up.Askswhat drinks I want for the two drink minimum.'Uh,water, and...'Hereyes fix on me. Waiting.Thesong ends.Abead of swe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1454705/ Wrote this at beginning of year, see notes in Soundcloud http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1453520/ What is old will be new again. I wanted to read this one to you http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1453413/ Click on Link. Wrote this one about 8 months ago http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1453399/ Blameless, like a rotting fishbeneath the deck, she lurksand leaks into the pool I thoughtI'd keep her living in.I caught her and she wasn't bigenough to fry, but pretty,and came up easy, so I had to keep her as a souvenir.I would never dry her out and mounther on a wall, because.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1452349/ Fortress-light glinting,I'm a bust.Stony from the hillside,perched surveyors post,the rocks sprawl out like comets,roasted on creation days, the sanded solar panels, and the boxy nerve, ignites! Live-action Lincoln logs, disgust!Design un-leavens settled dustco.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1428689/ Quarter Century's eve for me... a few disjointed images. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1418548/ A yellow moon pauses where the new hotel willrise.Light bends off a sheet of copper and spatters on an idlebeam. The street slants sharp behind, its splintering polesgalleon masts,each sunk deeper than the last in the sheerness o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1410629/ Does this format make the flow more apparent? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1405842/ Itwould be hardtofit me in a boxorpackage me as something that was fittostay in one, a pity, then, therock-starsuites I'd kill to see have hallways ofcontempt for me and refuse to host my moods or willunless of course I choose&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1404700/  Like waking stark up from a winter of dreamingthe sawdust of snow dust-clouding across,sweeping, then pounding like raps on a door, nagging atsockets to remember their use,not holes in a skull but sightsewed up in sleep,to rip out the threadwith original gaze,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1394911/ Not a Poem, a paragraph. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1388805/ The rush of a warm Sanibel eve, hum of a white metallic generator.I tap with a curving branch Isaved, let it fall at the base of thecinderblock steps.The steps cut up and veer above my head, six times my height. I think of an illusion.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1381341/ Finding light in dooming systemssplitting seconds into kingdoms, hotness rolling 'cross the cheeks likehills that hurtle into space symphoniesof movies spinning,bounding, boundless, floating, groundless,speaking, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1376104/ Behind the high rocks, where thetides swallow shorethere's a cavern that echoes, witha steely still pool.The tourists pass through, snaptheir photos and splash,but they're gone in the instanttheir cameras flash,up a rope ladder and out in the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1373834/ In the vein of a monologue. See casket scene in 'Last Tango in Paris' and imagine it as a poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1373657/ Sometimes windows through space are windows through time... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1373415/            Thequarter hour arrives. I have joined Charlie in the doorway and am clad in my pack:a flesh toned, element proof mesh of fabric and hardware. I grasp my insignia,a digital sort of gavel .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1368454/ What it becomes. What it becomes, when the world gets its handswrings the song to staccatoand hijacks the band. What it becomes,when the chick stumbles outto the fox's slick jaws, chewed up so, so soon it can't knowwhat .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1363344/ I lean on the stool,drunken from one of my runs.Salute to summer. A cutting remarkplumes and strikes itself as such,amidst cannabis. I'm sober, you seebut the more I stretch my legsmy mind atrophies. I d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1363328/ What if I open the door to my apartment and there'ssomeone in the kitchen? I look forward to what they'll sayas I press the number seven. Once upon a time I'd check thepeephole at every creak. Straining neck, shallow breathsas I'd peer and spy across t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1335762/ Shorter lines again, hurrah! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1331945/ This is more of story. I made the choice to forgo any devices of poetry, seeing as the scope of this encompasses quite a few poems. I didn't just want to evoke this, I wanted to recreate it as it was http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1331078/ Have you noticed how the answer nests as questions flurry across a barnyard floor like white-hot stalks of hay?You're so busy fighting fire that you stepacross the pail. You kick the fumes up bending walls, thelicks of agony dashing for the p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1330545/ This isn't the fire-breath of a dragon. It is a poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1327949/ I'll give you space, to molest my words,to Windex the counter while I'm away,toskip an extra line and take unnecessaryspace. I'll show not tell: scan back four lines, what do you see? Pleasereflect my art right back at me. My art? Howpompous!.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1326999/ My teardrops stutter in an inner lid inversion, a smattering of sentimentsthat swell and shrink upon arrival.They can't, won't flow, these channels,  tides that lurch, indulgent river mouths that just won't spill - do theseoceans drain of their own.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1326190/ This is the beginning of a story I haven't finished. Title (and everything), is strictly 'working'. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1324435/ The dog I had growing up. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1320741/ Consume each Senryu individually, as you would four small courses in a tasting menu. There is a requisite pause between each one. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1320195/ Ah.. another senryu http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/grahamachilles/1319271/