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Continue reading →: Lord of the Fries
Yellow swords dipped in blood. Commodity draws the young close and salts their edgy words. No potato famine. Just processed potentates raising voices. Used to be the pub where commoners draw conclusions. Now it is fountain drinks and talks of Ja Ja Binks. Thoughts pressed between finger and thumb. Pushed…
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Continue reading →: Head in the Cloud
White eye brow raised to open an iris of patent leather sky. The wisp hung over thoughts tossed as hard I could. Dark thoughts, big as chestnuts, became smaller and bluer the higher they flew. Mental blocks hewn under sun, and weighed down by gravity. So heavy one moment,…
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Continue reading →: Pink Teddy Bear
She had flushed pink cheeks and her eyebrows wouldn’t sit still. Emily’s eyes, fixed on mine, wore anxiety and a shade of sad. Their teddy bear was dead, the one that connected my dying mother to my living six year old child. She couldn’t look at it. The bear she…
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Continue reading →: To Be Or Not Be…A Wimp. Dad Stuff
I was handed the ‘cheese touch’ after a long and arduous day. A few of my children invited me to play the game ‘Diary of a Wimpy Kid’ based on the book and movie by Jeff Kinney. The ‘cheese touch,’ a plastic orange-yellow holey slice of cheese, had little follicles…
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Continue reading →: Yard Lines or Riding the Pine
What if each day was a first down and each conversation a well executed play? What if forgiveness was called up like a third string quarterback and offences were pigskins with strings attached? What if what we said we didn’t mean it, and if we said we didn’t mean it…
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Continue reading →: Paint By Number
The evening stroked and for a moment colors separated, distinct, no amalgamation. It was only a moment and I remembered my dad dipping a thin brush point. There sat a row of attached plastic urns each slightly bigger than a thimble with a number assigned to each color. The…
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Continue reading →: Blue Spruce
Huddled, they hold spring in the bending. A strength they give without giving way. Lake effects of layered white perch over and again. The weight of the world, speechless, rests on winter green. The equinox of forgiving will send its mercy and grace and warm the bitter branches. Snow will…
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Continue reading →: Surround
Sir Round, I am writing to you to ask for a continuance. King Linear lords it over me. Come thou now and help me with circles. The ones I drew with eyes and a half circle like a bowl facing the heavens. Smiles drawn in the dirt. The…
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Continue reading →: Open
It choked me. My mother told me close my mouth. Dennis’ father used to sit in the corner, legs crossed, reading the Gazette with his lower lip dangling and pudgy. Old people gape at nothing. Maybe nothing is gape worthy when white flurries crown them. The snowflake melted…
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Continue reading →: She Is Flat…”Oops,” said the scientist.
Pancakes for breakfast, resting, spreading on oil. What if scientists recanted? What if the sphere was a sham? What if science was ashamed? She is flat after all and done on one side for sure. A solar flare spatula slides under. Talk about turning the world upside down.…
Gerald the Writer 