http://slow.writerscafe.org/zachmizroch The original writings of author William Gardner en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775957661 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 There is often a story foundIn a long walk.When you go beyond,The streets and cars,And the disinterested looksOf the people inside them.  A fear settles in when you are alone.Millions of vague images creep up the back of your mind.You remember all the stories.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/2001610/ You were there but hardly seen.  A shadow, amongst other morevibrant shadows.  I worked with you once, I remember your face,and you ate in mine. Casuallylike Diamonds or Conflict- I’m not sure what.  You are that .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1999502/ The crumpled sheets are litLike leaves strewnOver abandoned houses.  The throats are slitAs easily As crossing guards wave an Imaginary sign.  I sit here and do not knowWhere hell is-I just know where its beenBy the taste,In the back of m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1992969/ He had come to flee the dust that was building up in hisroom, staring at his shoe tips over the last 8 hours did nothing to alleviateit. The Casio watch was on thin wrists, bones translucent,It read 11. The rides first day was something of an event,and the dark skies promising pounding rai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1977070/ She crept up on him sudden and immediately intimate, likeone of those actor families in the picture frames. She was both syrup sweet andstaged as she walked beside him ever so slightly brushing his arm with each step as they walked in Battery Park. The breeze waslight and the sound of a ri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1967026/ (Forgive my ego, it is my hand and your face,My words, through your mouth) The knuckles on his hands had grown around his wedding ring.It seemed no force on earth or any amount of butter could have removed it,  yet, The ring shone and sparkled as .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1960228/ It’s been a whileI’ve been holding you in.Like a Japanese farmerwipes the salt swept tearsOff the back of his neck. Kneelingat the foot of a Wind telephone-waiting to hear if your ok.  Like a broken boy runsThe feeling of you .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1959371/ This was written 10 years ago http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1955925/ this was written my last day in NY, 2007 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1955923/ You are the bath salts of my infinite indiscretion,You are the quick fuse line laid long beneath my tied downfeet.  For every creation built, we see the blocks rising,The towers crenelated and strong, the moat is deep and thebirds roost In the crows’ nest of wrin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1949856/                       Isee my life come shininFrom a simple basket was the firstsignificant biblical life born. Moses was a slave and a savior.But, other than the simple fact of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1948946/ YouI’m taking a moment to reach out. I want to let you know about 20 years of disappointment andlost dreams, Mostly, I just want to tell you- I forgot you for a full five minutes. They were broken up,but for a momentI remembered all the times you weren’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1946969/ Leave somethingbehind My voiceIs often rough with neglect,Tied and bound, with frustrations daily ground.It hurts sometimes to breathethrough a throat, raw with desire.I cool it at night with a golden fire. Broken and scarred these hands tr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1930504/ You are near,and distant.Not because,You don’t lay next to me   (you do)  . But my heart is a funny one.Sometimes my arms have no warmth,when they hold you.Sometimes im empty air, When you hold me. I do not know wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1921714/ You haunt my sleepEnemy of last chances.  You are That remarkably  Down.That simply put:Only took One chance.  that simple fake and god she takemy heart it is a glidingits glide so finein tombs we find the words of pastliv.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1914644/ dd. alyssa http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1911536/ My heart pumps and beatsSometimes too fastYou know that rhythm you hear it when others aren't talkingIt pounds out to you the seconds of passing life. On a graph,It looks like crenellations on a castleI went to a castle once in SkopjeI stood in the middle of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1901030/ You fall on me like a September rainQuick quiet and cold. You drift over every inch of my skinsmell like damp and leaves and bring me down into your earthen home. I know i should fear such quiet momentsMy head moving under dirt deeper like papers dry and c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1833544/ The linesof the wood grainand your overblown expectationsfall onmelike leaves on abandoned cars. You are not the one I perspire to; you are theinstrument,of my next dayand because, I am predisposed to like next days,I hold on to you.You are well, and finishe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1793820/ when waves crash,we are usually doing something else very important. They smack on sanded shoresusually revealing something importantsomething missed,that we are often too busy to notice.  I've been thinking alot of my death day, maybe because I've be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1781903/ The word confessionhas so many connotations. It sounds contrite and guilt ridden, and it is sooften self serving and puerile. I do not know what this is. All I can say isthat I have many words in my heart and head and for a very long time they havewanted to get out. I've tried to couch them .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1710352/ The small flecked scars around the ends of the fingers werea combination of days in texas and many more days in large big box retailerstores, the smell of new wood and new paint and 35, 52 foot trailers in 30 days.That's how you learn to work for a living, work 26 hour shifts because you can.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1693204/ The room was dark, opaque. The walls held outlines of manythings once held there. There was a thick, quality to the air in there, youmight call it a heaviness. The only thing left in the room was a large desk,two side tables and a strange lamp, its base showing two horses running by each.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1693179/ struggling to write to younot cause you don't inspire me                                       &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1687239/ I had sat out to write something, laid my notes outclearly, on a single sheet, glowing dim and familiar on my screen.  It's gone now, butI know it was about the lever. The lever was one of twosimple truths.  Give me a lever big enough and I can move th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1685991/ is like every other light http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1667451/ Your teethtell me everything. They hold all the stainsof your lifetimeof questionable cleaning,or, of things you couldn'tremove. Don't bother trying to veneer orcap your wayfrom the truth, I see through;your dentist is not good enough,your dental dam.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1662801/ There was a timewhere I thought I could tell the future-precognition crept up on me- Inevitable. Like a bad smell finding its way to you, likeeggs with toast at the diner,next to the seedy motel,where i have never taken anyone before,but almost did. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1658663/ Nothing worthnoting flows from this pen.How can i saysomethingthat evenbegins to mendall thosefences that were brokenbefore i camein. This is thesound of me not writing you.Like the soundof gas lampsin 19th centurysalonsin silk linedsitting roomswhere I'veheard yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1657965/ We’re All Happy Here Streaming tearsAbruptly endingThe face tightensLines drawn taut            a smilePaints itself on the lips            the e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1657957/ you cant hurt me you've tried many timesand its workedin scars there is always thin skini have many scars,good for youyou get in. The light, soft on my facelifting, and the wonderin his small eyes, as he finally sees me,finally smiles. All .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1655347/  Beware monsters, sharp objectsand the truthany one of them can come closecan cut- leaves leaking listlessly staring down empty streets wherehappy feet used to bethese worn out lumps can onlystress this pavement once more One of t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1654357/ ... But i do notquestion When you are near me,you are everything.I can’t take my eyesor handsoff you for even one second. When you are far away it means             &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653748/ We drunks and dreamersfollow shadows and whispersonly to find them. You like a rainbowfell at my feet one sunny daysoft i pick you up. You like a rainbowcaught my eye one rainswept daypulled me from the ledge. Doctor's prescription: .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653735/ so many reasons                                              &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653734/ She moved towards me in tragedykissed me in deeply held fearfled in falling                                    &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653733/ Some nights, he thinks of her. Silent she stands, her head tilted to one side as if drawn to be like someone lost in thought. Her one arm resting on one thigh,one finger slightly raised.Her lips slightly parted as if to begin a song. Who is this woman, whe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653730/ He had been driving for days. His clothes practicallycreaked with the sweat and dirt that the miles had accumulated on him. His hairwas greasy and limp, his hat smelled like McDonalds. The miles ticked, thescenery changed but he only looked at it to catch his breath from the thoughtsthat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653706/ Always more to say We woke once and we were in blissand we spent every day sincetrying to get back to this. It is not the way you curvenot the way your hair fallson my face.Not the way my body holds youor the way my arm lays across you(it's p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653703/ my life has come this far somehoweven though I split my timebetween you the smell of industry and a failing carand my mind.  That endless storage placeconjures and combines finds interest in the strangest things like the freckle in her eyethe sounds o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653701/ he was pounded pummeled and penetratedhe felt at once that nothing he ever did would fix ithe looked aroundand deeplyinto everyone's eyes he looks for understandingand empathic eyelashesempty platitudes with promiseslain carefully over the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653698/ (1) Ode to first class Decadence is its own reward. There is no greater way tostart a long journey than to start it in comfort. The alcohol enriched southerntwang of the  flight attendants voice asthe lemon scented hot towel is handed to you. You wipe your fingers of any .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653697/ Ses  Tina I was in a rare moment where my sight was untrammeled.An adjective at the end and a crossroadsahead. What have i come to? There i am creepingseeming fine- Feeling unraveledalthough I do remember a time when i was well-traveledI'm not sure where to .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zachmizroch/1653696/