From November, 2017

Do Not Neglect a Gunlocke

Pulling, twisting, turning, ripping. Dust fills my workspace and the smell of cat urine makes the air unbreathable. Pliers, a hammer and a flat screwdriver break bones, tear tendons and remove cotton padding from the chair I adopted from Wendy at work. She had two chairs, identical in design and similar in disrepair, but they…

Down the Fire Escape

As a child, I lived in a vanilla-milkshake world, so contented with spoon in hand and straw to my lips, numbed by the creamy-cold goodness. Everything was so unsoiled, the tidy streets lined with tidy houses and all the tidy tots as me played in the chaste sand of colorless boxes. All the sixteen summer,…

1978

I once made the mistake of asking a guy about nineteen-seventy-eight. Why do you want to know about that? It’s ancient history. People used to rent VHS movie tapes to watch on Friday nights, for Christ’s sake, and if you didn’t drag your sorry ass out of bed to return the things by opening time…

Finding Non-Acerbic Words

How will I tell her? “I messed up again, I opened my mouth and let loose words —I make you zip in.” How will I pay for dance lessons promised, if she’d just give me less lip? How will I tell her? “Do as I expire, when my words are why I just got fired.”…

The Saving of Little Miss M.

Everybody knew that the old man was mad. Dibble knew it, and so did the crew, but it was just one of those things, like a sudden shower; what good would it do a man to dwell on it? They had work to do and they did it, besides, there was a lot of madness…

Jumble

Charred Landscape A jumble of buildings squatted some distance away, dark and low What used to be a harvest moon Rises in the background History no longer remembers this place. A cracked highway, weed-choked and crumbling Traces the exit of humanity’s footprint Leaving nothing else behind except A jumble of buildings squatted some distance away,…

Before America

I’m jumping ship on America Before I see the Statue I’ll be overboard Count me deported before I make it I’ve already woken up from the Dream You see, I am from the land of opportunity I was raised on the salt of the ocean The land and ocean told me who they are They…

Chair of Cow

The cow wandered into the corner of the room and stood there, sullen,  stinking of the field. She stood there,  surrounded by books, on her muddy feet between the shelves of books. Gradually the cow settled down into the cool angles of the ancient hardwood, and, gradually, she turned into a chair   of supple leather,…

Let the Good Times Roll

The North Florida heat was sweltering as me and my brothers and sisters danced around on the packed earth that was our backyard. Although my parents were staunch Christians and abhorred anything worldly, as children we could sing the blues and dance like “ninety going west.” Mr. Lois Jordan was one of our favorite singers…

A Glass of Water

He pushed the door open and stepped inside the bar. Sunrays swept the room, revealing the ugliness night usually hid. The place was resting from people save for the bartender who was down low mopping water from the fridge. She was moving back and forth, swaying in her cowboy shirt and jeans. He walked to…