http://WORDWULF.com/CLOSER-TO-HOME
~Boundless~I’ll be seventy this year if I make it to May 11. In my
decrepitness, I’ve figured a few things out. There are lovelies no one and
nothing can wrest from me. My mother, for one.
http://WORDWULF.com/PHILOSOPHY
~Unexpected~On startled mornings, we must not allow ourselves to come undone. Take
our time, make our way through ripples of the day in measured steps.
http://WORDWULF.com/HINGE Hinge 21: Bad
Juju, that spider thing, one brain, eight legs, eight eyes, night horses. Seems
that never the saying of it is a guarantee of its occurrence. 3 walls, 1 way to
fall, backing up, disappearing, fear of standing.
http://WORDWULF.com/POETRY
Raindrops gradually change from heavenly bits of moisture we chase with our
tongues as children, dodge adroitly as adults while we hurry to hither and yon,
finally welcome wistfully on aged skin, memories rekindled, precious as baby’s
tears.
http://WORDWULF.com/HINGE Hinge 120: Dime
World: One day all things changed; we’ll get back to normal, someone said.
Fringe artists reaching, hanging off bridges, bandana spray-paint faces. Ordinary
citizens stayed home to avoid the mess, obey the law.
http://WORDWULF.com/HINGE Hinge 19: Trust
is a downtown mess; specks o’ spittle ten feet away, lung rot, house arrest,
loose-tongue professors, talking-head whores, preaching, pointing, blaming. You
heard it here. Turn that thing off. Eat your soup. Take your brother for a
piss. Don’t breathe til you get back.
http://WORDWULF.com/HINGE ~Corona:~Hinge
18: ~Night Court~ Peed a little red blood/yellow. Nurses in/nurses out, shift
change, pleasantly handing over patients.
http://WORDWULF.com/PHILOSOPHY
~Enough~Adulthood finds us pursuing religion, politics and careers, running
downhill, fornicating, procreating, recreating, scorched in a pyre of
ignorance, tangle-fires of youth. ~WordWulf~
http://WORDWULF.com/HINGE
~foreign passengers~the train leaves now~kicked through the windows~chaos of
shattered glass~the unapproachable stranger~gimmee some o’ that~
Tom Sterner is a writer. He lives in Redding, California and Arvada, Colorado with wife Kathy. He has been published in numerous magazines and on the internet, including Howling Dog Press/Omega, Skyline Literary Review, The Storyteller, and Flashquake. His internet pseudonym is WordWulf. A native of Colorado and proud father of five children and a stepdaughter, he also writes lyrics, sings and composes music with his sons. He is winner of the Marija Cerjak Award for Avant-Garde/Experimental Writing and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2006 and 2008. Published work includes two novels, Madman Chronicles: The Warrior and Momma’s Rain.