Tag Archive: short-story

She used to love me a lot..

She used to love me a lot…. I saw my ancient love and she was drinking the whiskey straight, sitting alone at the Purgatory Inn in Ann Arbor. I told the waitress, send… Continue reading

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The skin, the gin and the sin city..

The skin, the gin and the sin city.. Pretty lady sat near me at the tavern and I said hello. She smiled and she came nearer. She caressed my military hair-cut and she… Continue reading

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The Texas two-step..

( April is poetry month. Old poem never published from 2017. Poem number nine.) The Texas two-step.. He saw her sitting alone sipping her drink slowly and her eyes were barren and so… Continue reading

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My secret life..

My secret life.. I was your boss and teacher once. We shared hours in a locked building. I adored your long legs and auburn hair. Your perfect body unable to be hidden, made… Continue reading

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When I am done and a beautiful Marianne Faithfull song.

When I am done.. I became the old man who waiting for no-one. Once I wanted everything and now. I need little. I wonder where do the old soldiers go? When they are… Continue reading

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Remembering the fragrance of Winter..

Remembering the fragrance of Winter A Poem by Coyote PoetryA story                              Remembering the fragrance of Winter… I had lived the… Continue reading

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Stripped to the bone..

Stripped to the bone…. I told her, I love the darkest things. I want a love so dark, my world turn purple/black. I don’t want sweet words, I want demanding words. I want… Continue reading

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One more cup of coffee my dearest love..

One more cup of coffee my dearest. ( April is poetry month. Poem number four.) He made two cups of coffee with a pinch of sugar and light cream. He watched dear Susi… Continue reading

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You are so beautiful..

You are so beautiful.. The paradox of life. We will know more sadness than happiness. Poor Lucy sat alone hugging her Black Velvet whiskey and cussing at her world. I went to her… Continue reading

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The heartstrings..

The heartstrings.. She poured the sweet red wine into her Grandparent borrowed wine glasseswith soft and tender hands. Her eyes of river blue looked into my eyes.He knew she was playing him like… Continue reading

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