Author Aaron Echoes August

Glowing ethereal figures float above vibrant green hills at sunset. We floated along toward the green bean horizon today. The air was warm and salty and had that smell of summer. That smell of deep green and earth and heat, the shimmering of the clouds point toward end-of-the-day ice cream from a little favorite spot on the main drag, the sky slipping into its costume of dusk, the cone bright…

A rusted shipwreck leans on a rocky shore near turquoise water and mountains. Money is a rebellion against liberty and angels with arrows mingle on the edge of space No one cares where you are Or who you are Or why you are For I am listless Drained Lost Lonely Inside myself Blunted Joyless Lacking passion Restless Anxious Convicted Hexed Depressed Dead…

A vintage wooden chair near an ornate gold-framed mirror in a softly lit, rustic room. Sitting in a chair in front of a mirror talking to myself with imaginary razor and lightning bugs fluttering about. I remember an abandoned church in dead town Texas and how the lost souls thrived in the place of wood and holy water. I feel wrapped up in the wonder of death. To no longer be in this world…

Three mannequins submerged underwater surrounded by floating papers and shopping carts. Wake up Wake up Time to put on the makeup To face the world with mask on task Smile until it cracks As the walking dead Pester and purchase Block the aisles with fat asses Cucumbers are crass and numb Shoved up planet Uranus People in the real world Do these things And we wonder why we are in such…

A highway stretches toward distant hills under a colorful sunset sky. Raton McDonald’s Greasy floor Traveler cacophony Chaos to the ears and mind French fries dipped in ketchup A milkshake, cheeseburger Smoking a cigarette in the parking lot Cool lean against hot car broiling beneath the somewhat desert sun Watching the trailing people Head back to their vehicles Making way to the…

A moonbeam falls across a star-filled cosmos. Etching red canyon red Tracing the timelines year by year Scratches into the forbidden planet A planet sans real people Spaceman left alone to breathe deep then die A yellow furnace chamber Far down, unforgiving Like loneliness on a moon beam Aaron Echoes August

The sun is shining Black birds streak across the clear blue sky The grass and trees throb with summer green Spiral galaxies up above swirl in space madness Casting off new planets and stars Must be natural creation by a magic man And here I am, a millionth of a pinpoint Seemingly so insignificant Yet my world to me is monstrous So big and heavy I nearly collapse from the weight of it…

Storm clouds hover over the ancient Nazca Lines in the Nazca Desert of Peru. He looks at his watch as the clock balloons float him over the barren land But no land is completely barren Even barren means something A scrape of desert, a scorching salt flat, a burned forest Seemingly ugly can be beautiful Even Texas at twilight There’s a fine mist in the sky The air is humid, thick,…

A blue duck stands on a lone black bed that rests on cracked red earth under a moody twilight sky. At the large house at the end of the block that serves as an apothecary and home of a weird man named Fielden Mousen, an ogre sits atop the chimney and stares out at the smoke-rimmed world around him. Fielden is riding in the tiny elevator, and the house has an elevator because it is so tall, red,…

Shoppers move between floors in a bright, modern mall using multiple escalators. Carousel-lighted crickets sparkle like breath gone astray Birds of flight spinning the tune: It’s hard to be happy when you’ve ruined your life Oatmeal at a diner in the desert, sugar, a small silver pitcher of cream Reflections of firetrucks racing to the scene At Casino Celebration Gambling…

A medieval-clad man gazes over a lush garden toward a castle at dusk. Prince Hawkwind of Leafdom stood alone in his private garden. He looked down at the stone pathway. The spaces between the pieces glowing green with moss. The sun was shining and some of the light fell onto the leaves there and they cast foreboding shadows at their edges. He knew this was the day that they would likely take him…

A lone person dressed in dark clothing stands inside an empty city bus at night. Exodus Tangier stood at the precipice of a freight train as it rushed through the night. The tracks ahead ran straight like a zipper, trees leapt up on either side, trees like blue spruce, dark and embodied with a scent of Christmas. The wind poured across Exodus’ head. He was crying. Something had made him so sad…

A whimsical food landscape features hikers exploring a world made of sandwiches and vegetables. Sometimes I don’t want anything to do with anything I feel blank The pencil tip is broken I’m in prison Sitting on the edge of a bunk Someone else above me is snoring I can’t escape Always noise, constant clamor I can’t stand noise Noise makes me shriek inside There’s a sandwich that looks…

A lone home stands on a hill as lightning strikes nearby during a stormy evening. It’s silent among the weeds of the fan whir. The sun teeters on the edge of darkness. The growing, green trees splinter light. Stars and planets wait offstage for the curtain of night to come down like a new dimension, the darkness swirling, the celestials stirring, and I in a coffin of the mind easing nervously…

A silhouetted figure is dramatically struck and fragmented by lightning on a cliff. He liberated his wounds with liquor At the bus depot on some side of Manhattan Haunted memories pipe forth from a calliope on acid Lingering hooks in skin pulling Exposing fragile pulses running down the limbs Suicide scars dancing in a lightning pattern way And I am silver surfing in the French bakery…

An astronaut floats toward a futuristic lunar base with Earth exploding in the sky due to the ignorance and greed of people.  An epic dawn retreats Daylight splayed Like circus knives on a wooden table Evil clowns playing finger slicing games Like ancient gods with the sharp edge of a lightning bolt I am falling from the moon Slipping off the Sea of Tranquility Land me upon the dark…

A cool, wet street The sound of tires splashing through the rain One lone car up the road, toward the hill, and the gray church that stands there like some great Lord of life, overlooking the world Neon glowing, gold and red, reflecting A butcher shop on the sidewalk Fine Meats it reads As streetlights vape And loneliness aches Shop windows aglow Bourbon blues And anatomical greens The…