Tag Archives: C.G. Thompson

CG THOMPSON: There’s a Tatter in the World When He’s Gone

Artistic, Poetry, Submissions, , , , ,

Knotty-pine rails and shorn winter grass,
pastures wandering aimlessly,

subdued air chewed to the quick.
Puddles notch the ground

(rough-hewn mirrors of regret)
at the hushed gate where he waited.

The morning of the horse’s passing,
a rickety world presents itself,

clouds cobbled together
in a pale and unfinished sky.

C.G. Thompson was once owned by a tall pony who was kind enough to listen to her talk about poetry. Sadly, he passed away before any of her poems about him were published. She had hoped to read them to him. He continues to be an inspiration.

CG THOMPSON: What Happens When the Location of the Curve is Unclear, 1970

Artistic, Submissions, Touching, , , ,

“Brake before the curve,” her mother always told her in mountainous terrain.

Senior year, she met him in philosophy class, slept with him when he mentioned love.

“We’re too young to get serious,” he said one night. Permanent goodbye.

Spring semester, he was engaged.

His words were code. Broke her.

C.G. Thompson has two stories in the recently released TL;DR Press’ Women’s Anthology: Carrying Fire. Other stories and poems have appeared in Yalobusha Review, Prime Number Magazine, Fictive Dream, Jersey Devil Press, and Redheaded Stepchild, among others.