Me: (sigh) I feel less inspired than ever.

She: (gently) Love, the masses are not just sitting, waiting for you to blow their minds.

Me: (tasting truth) Right. So I should probably just sit, wait until I feel inspired?

She: (chuckles, grabs my pen, kisses me)

©️ Candice Reineke 2018

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all hallow’s eve

what had you to offer us

on this moonlit-night long ago?

grand excitement in the air

glorious masks and homemade costumes 

galavanting in neighborhood streets

candies of all varieties 

carrying loads, spilling over

more mischief than we’d ever dream

all hallow’s eve

what have you to offer us

now that we’re grown?

still, excit...

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as hard as I fight

as far as Type-One technology has come

between jabs, he bites off part of your ear

it’s the diabolical nature of The Beast

constantly check my number

consistently count my carbs

carefully calculate my dose 

still, at times, I drop urgently low 

and my body, so bitter 

wants to surrender the KO

But again, I demand, “stand before t...

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If your art is good, as it feels in your bones

You will become known

Long after your ashes are sprinkled

And all of your senses are gone 

Particularly if you cut off your lobe

Or choose for yourself to end it all

Note scraps reveal queer love affairs

Poems show in the rubble of fallen walls

Fans will become obsessed

Frame you in the brightest light 

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I’m ordinary and that’s ok

Extraordinary is made of

A million ordinaries anyway

I can feel Magnolia

Reflecting sheen 

From her glossy dark leaves

It’s early afternoon

Rays warm my left shoulder

My car window lets just enough in 

The faint rattle in my back seat

Plays a bridge

To the melody of my AC

The turns of my car, so familiar

The rout...

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I'll let my chicken wrap just rest 

here as I 

hear about your week.

Its peanut-curry crunch

silenced by your over-sized watch as

it tick tick ticks

against your silky, soft wrist.

I'll let myself forget what day it is

but remember how your 

jaw click click clicks

with every chew.

Servers might see it on my face.

Strangers maybe will, too.

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Slightly runny yolks with sizzling edges

Komodo freshly brewed to bold perfection 

Heavenly scents waft through our place 

I oversleep; you don’t judge; instead, you

cook my eggs just the way I like them.

Slow dances in our socks on kitchen tiles

Bike rides under shady oaks for miles

Beach picnics, candlelit and sunset-kissed

The breeze blows out our candles; you try

rel...

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