Odd Walking Thoughts

The child hurt. But had no scratches. No bruises. No black eye. Now the child wrings both hands together furiously and places them, palms down, on each thigh to feel warmth. Nearby, the petals of a yellow rose droop from the weight of the rain. Spilling now, what small amounts had gathered in the folds of the fragrant bloom. The child reaches for the dripping flower, smiling. ‘Can I pour my life out too?’ the child whispers. ‘And start again.’

Odd Walking Thoughts

Over knees we go. Did you hear the sky today? It know’s much more than a cry. Don’t, let’s not see the crisp apple near the little girl with the red dress. She already put you to shame with a look. She is six. Walk in the brook. The mud is deep- It’s very dark. Our room is haunted. It has wooden floor boards and the light from the moon tries to creep. Our closet door creaks open again. who’s there.

Odd Walking Thoughts

The boy walked into the woods. It wasn’t yet dark. He heard his mother say, “I’m disgusted by humans.” The boy walked deeper into the woods because the brook waited for him. The water was calm and caring. The boy thought of his mother, “And another window will smear. It’s what they do. Especially men. They smear everything as often as they can.” The boy walked on. The sun pushed through the canopy of trees. Finally he heard the brook. The boy took his shoes off and placed his feet into the water, feeling the bottom. It was better than knowing about the rest. Slowly though, he bent forward. His mirror. “Should I be any better?” the boy thought of his mother’s shrill voice. -M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

The non-listeners with years of experience tell so well how it was. A child cries while a mother watches her show. the father paddles around the house. It’s sad really. With the child seeing the most. Watch as the mother pushes her child away to view her show. Watch as the father ushers the child toward the mother. Watch as the child tosses a fit and slams head into floor, knowing what’s next. And still goes the mouth that had never been.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

We took a broken thought and turned it to gold. Why. The boy, with his head held under a towel telling. His head held by another. If one fixes another breaks. We shouldn’t be writing this, we’re looking now. Keep going. No. The towel sickens and breaths. We hold you down. Don’t you see.

-M. Taggart
Copyright 2017

Odd Walking Thoughts

At the bottom of the clock Lurked the mouth who spoke too much. the boy watched unwillingly, while the angle of time twitched for more. And there he stood. alone. Waiting for the top of the clock. -The brook wasn’t too deep. Not really. when he stepped in it was nice and cool around his ankles.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

The toilet needs to be cleaned. Try one more time. Behind the seat. The odor sets in. The boy wipes his nose with dirty hands. He wonders when he’ll be able to go outside. Flogged thinking takes place of truth. The boy scrubs and views his life without reason. Thank you, he thinks, the outside isn’t much anyway.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

If you want help, I’ll help. What the fuck. myat myat. What the fuck does that mean. myat. We’re here and not. An afternoon turned long, with the drinks and the smoke. It had been a long while since this happened. So we sit and talk about a word and how that word is. A man sits on his chair, on the porch, he lights a cigar; the cigar made smoke and he watched that smoke.

-M. Taggart