Giggle Prose Poetry Poems

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You standing there looking so innocent
       and sexy, biting your lip
Smiling so guile-y and your hair
Cascading around your face
Over...

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You may call me Mrs. V the woman told new workers.
I am the manager, so I manage what you do.
She is also an overseer, and...

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I want to fly as fast as a fighter jet
Not me, his sister said.
I want to fly as fast as a hummingbird.

This made the little...

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--- but as if patiently waiting

to be translated back into Earth again --- :

inscribed timeworn standing stone stelae

--- things in themselves ---

as if half-expecting that...

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It had been a bad month; Jim was exhausted from death.
He drove to their favorite lake and took off his clothes.
Wandered into the cold water...

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Shall I relay a sidesplitting hoot from my “care-free” on campus fun phase?
It entails a laboratory session involving three mystic world colossal oafs.
 One had...

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I am an eleven-year-old giant, lying on the floor of my treehouse.
The cottonwood trees have a smell you cannot get anywhere else.
They cherish our time...

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What are age spots? The children ask me.
I show them mine.
They are amazed, oohing and ahhing.
We used to call them freckles, I tell them. But...

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I have recognized many old ladies, but I know two of them.
They were Florence and Duno, both crackerjacks.
Their sense of humors rose in the sky...

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Damon did not think he had any goodness left to give
But Angela discovered a flash of compassion in his eyes
He turned away, feeling undesirable and...

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Initially he is so charming
He charms your pants off.
Bring flowers to your mother.
And a treat for the dog.
He is almost too charming.
Giggle. Giggle. Smile. Smile.
You...

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Years down the road we will be known as flappers
In 1929 we are known as outrageous open hussies
Shunned by the church-y women, loved by the...

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A rabbit an elk and a snowman walked into a bar.
I stared at this neonate.
Did eight month olds talk?

No wait. He is nine months old...

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It was an up and down night
We could hear them running up and down
The stairs outside our bedroom door
Why do they call it a slumber...

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