after so long
a revival unlooked for
I just reread a sampling of things from this blog and thought wow! There was
some good stuff here. This is the kind of space I need again a place
for the random fiction and weirder thoughts. I have been too restrained
in the newer thing.
Damn, I just dumped tea all over my leg! It's jasmine green tea--that work horse of tea--and I prefer it in me and not on me.
What has the time between this and my last post wrought? Well, everything, duh.
Let's unravel together.
Thursday, April 25, 2019
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Two Beginings
Crickets droning the heat of post midsummer if all the windows were cracked in this hot box paper thin house after the sun some small relief could seep in but they weren’t. We all wanted to sleep on the floor except for Madison who wanted to sleep under the house. He was brilliant that way. I couldn’t stomach the thought of things crawling on me.
That was a summer of upheaval. I was out of work again. Going for a fourth bold new venture. Oh, but things were different this time, this time I took it seriously, I thought.
***
The wind blew the door open over and over. It was not for uncertainties sake that he minded. It was the expectation that with each opening some wonderful thing would come but all that came was the wind. Yet with each opening something wonderful had come for isn’t the wind itself a wonder? Not to burden himself too deeply he got up to secure the door.
As he reached it the thought, “I shall be bald.” Crossed his mind and he heard himself breathing, the sound came to him as if it were a small wheezy creature hovering an inch from his right cheek. “Man, get a hold of yourself” he said hugging his arms in. The door blew open once more hitting him on the forehead. He pushed it shut, but lacking a good latch the comedy would replay.
“There are doors,” a voice said, “that cannot remain shut.” This made no sense. He let it be.
Next he found he was expecting Stacy to be behind him but Stacy was dead, had been for three years.
That was a summer of upheaval. I was out of work again. Going for a fourth bold new venture. Oh, but things were different this time, this time I took it seriously, I thought.
***
The wind blew the door open over and over. It was not for uncertainties sake that he minded. It was the expectation that with each opening some wonderful thing would come but all that came was the wind. Yet with each opening something wonderful had come for isn’t the wind itself a wonder? Not to burden himself too deeply he got up to secure the door.
As he reached it the thought, “I shall be bald.” Crossed his mind and he heard himself breathing, the sound came to him as if it were a small wheezy creature hovering an inch from his right cheek. “Man, get a hold of yourself” he said hugging his arms in. The door blew open once more hitting him on the forehead. He pushed it shut, but lacking a good latch the comedy would replay.
“There are doors,” a voice said, “that cannot remain shut.” This made no sense. He let it be.
Next he found he was expecting Stacy to be behind him but Stacy was dead, had been for three years.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Sacrifice
Maxine stood in the gas station and tapped the carton of cigarettes. There were three left. Without thinking too hard she pulled out one of them and lit it. She had smoked her entire life. At least she didn’t remember a time without these long pale friends.
The mood was not happy. After this pack was done there could be no more.
Her daughter had screamed at her, “If you never smoked again, we would all be better off.” There was a basement full, a shaft full, of people who would be better off.
The street rippled before her as she walked. She chanted, “light, last cigarette/ last light cigarette/ last light ever cigarette.”
On the ground in the gutter under the window behind the warehouse lay a little black shriveled thing on its back. Something had to die.
The mood was not happy. After this pack was done there could be no more.
Her daughter had screamed at her, “If you never smoked again, we would all be better off.” There was a basement full, a shaft full, of people who would be better off.
The street rippled before her as she walked. She chanted, “light, last cigarette/ last light cigarette/ last light ever cigarette.”
On the ground in the gutter under the window behind the warehouse lay a little black shriveled thing on its back. Something had to die.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
fear breath is short
the earth is here
the earth is here
remember it is here and it caught you
fear breath is short
fierce breath is deep and sharp
the breath that whimpers out
is the breath that tugs the heart
for the empty of faith
the empty of breath
what hope is there
when the soul is cracked
all is cracked
"fill it in," the fear commands
"cracks let out the light"
the earth is here
remember it is here and it caught you
fear breath is short
fierce breath is deep and sharp
the breath that whimpers out
is the breath that tugs the heart
for the empty of faith
the empty of breath
what hope is there
when the soul is cracked
all is cracked
"fill it in," the fear commands
"cracks let out the light"
Thursday, January 24, 2013
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