Crow Friday: Gooey Poems


My poems

Are like homemade

Chocolate chip cookies–

Fresh, gooey

And warm.

I try to bake

Them slowly

With a little bit

Of my soul.

Each poem is flavorful,

Each stanza

stands alone.

I mix

Just enough sugar,

Flour and butter–

Not too sweet,

Not too dry.

I taste the poem

Out loud.

I wash it down

With an ice-cold

Glass of milk.

And wrap the poems

In a cute, red bow.

©️mark tulin

Flash Fiction: Old Converse


As I placed the donation pile into a large garbage bag for Goodwill, a flood of emotions hit me when I came across an old pair of hi-top Converse sneakers. They had holes in the soles and frayed edges, but I loved wearing them. Putting them in the trash bag made me feel guilty.

An excerpt from Old Converse at Friday Flash Fiction.

Crow Tuesday: Blow Your Nose

I miss the honesty of childhood.

The way my friends told me

the truth

in words, in play

or in crumpled up notes.

I miss friends

who teased me

about my looks,

who said shut up,

blow your nose

and read a book.

Not like the adult world

of smiles, deception

and awkward stares.

Not saying what’s really true,

not expressing

how they really feel.

©️mark tulin