Monday, June 20, 2011

TWO PIECES BY CHAD REDDEN

FORECAST

A lifetime of rain inside you,
I measured your pulse while

you slept.  Can’t believe your wrist’s
width  sometimes.  How do you hold

anything up or in?  Today
should remain sunny,  a slight chance

of showers after dinner.  It depends
on the salad dressing and silence

on the couch between slow
chewing and evening news.



BOX

I promised the moment would keep
if folded with neat creases in a box.
You misunderstood me and turned
your arms in tight, your elbows
pinched against your stomach as if
I might place you inside a small
            and cardboard thing.


About Chad Redden:
Chad Redden avoids leather like everyone else these days, watches his water intake, breathes in a steady pattern, and smiles when you look him in the eye. Nothing suspicious about him at all.  He also edits NAP (naplitmag.com).  Twitter: @cwickredden

No comments:

Post a Comment