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SEASHELLS BY THE TURBULENT SHORE (rynski poetry)

dazed clam seashell

Stacy Blair was

groovy and keen and

the coolest kid

on the block.

 

If she was your friend,

your life had meaning. If not,

you may as well die.

 

One day she gave me

a drawing she had

carefully colored

herself.

 

I cherished the

thing, hung it on

my wall – the next day

she asked for it back.

 

She came to the door with

Shauna O’Conner to give

the prized drawing to

her.

 

I handed it back –

straight-faced with grace – then

cried on the couch

for a week.

 

And that’s why I

threw a tantrum – some 40 years

later – when mom told 6-year-old

Aiden he could take what he wished

from a big box of shells Mom had

previously

promised

to me.

 

-ryn.09.18.17

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ONE DUNKED DOG (rynski poetry)

there’s a dangling

apology out there one

i would not accept from a

man at the beach after

his dog attacked

my dog and dunked him

under water the man

grabbed off his dog and then

called him two swear words, the man said

 

he was sorry but I merely

frowned. now the man’s

apology

dangles –

 

twists

in the wind flaps

in the breeze hangs low

and unplucked like

rotten fruit – what happens

 

to dangling apologies?  do they

finally waft down to be

absorbed by

the earth – or do they

continue to float and float for

all eternity – like those times

you say “I love you” and

no one answers?

 

-ryn.09.05.17

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SIX HAIKU ON OUR ROAD TRIP

roadtrip car

There’s only so much

disco you can take, even

dear Donna Summer.

All other cars on

the road are there to test your

patience, block your way.

Distance looks shorter

on a map, time goes faster

when you hide the clock.

You’ll remember you

forgot paper towel when your

dog pukes in the back.

That journey stuff is

bullshit when you’re still four hours

from destination.

Whining and scratching

at doors is the dog version

of “Are we there yet?”

-ryn gargulinski.05.20.16

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FRACTURE

I once
walked
barefoot through the
streets of new york – with
nary a care in the world – I was
young I was
dumb I did not
give a damn – I was
painted with markers and
drunk from last night I
thought –
myself –
immortal – right
down
to the
soles
of
my
feet. A

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