Sunday, January 20, 2019
No Fool Like
-Let me apologize for this
Bag of Wrinkles! Really
accelerated this past year.
-Seen worse.
Laconic, Shelly Rust Newcolme, RN.
Not so someday, when she hisses
“You’re just sizzling this time!”
But now, they recheck meds.
Labels: fantasy, meds, Old Age, patient, sex
Saturday, June 09, 2018
Snow Globe
The shaking of it must be just right.
Thus you’ll see the snowman and
diminutive cottage aswim in softest white.
One man reflexively agitates to larger,
darker flakes.
Dark red glow under as, soon enough, the cottage catches fire, snowman melts.
Then all so black, the man drops the sooty globe, but can’t escape the blackness everywhere it rolls and rolls!
Becomes so liquid dark all around him that he hides. No use--ever again.
the dark now.
Labels: depicted worlds, fantasy, nightmare, reality, snow globe
Sunday, March 11, 2018
The Third
Mitz rehearses Granger before
her more formal dates.
As in: “You’ve chosen a fine
champagne, Grange. Allow me
to pour?”
Her roommate, Loria. Or Lor Lor.
Always watched in approval.
And helped arrange him in his chair
when the girls left for the dining hall.
One day they hurried, and came back
to find him sprawled face down in
seedy sport jacket and jockeys.
They got him back and fluffed his
pocket handkerchief.
“But you saw his wooden dick!
I know you did! He’s so shy
about that!”
Lor Lor admitted she did, but
found a pair of lycra athletic pants
of hers that would fit wrestler-actor
The Rock.
Would do. Mitz had been waiting for
the end of semester JUNKORAMA
at the Student Union.
Then they had cupcakes.
Everybody grew more comfortable
in time.
Granger’s present outfit: Tennis!
Labels: college, dummy, fantasy, role playing, roommate
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Moral Question
when she gets
to it with a man,
fantasize the male
role for herself?
Alongside any
bs sentiments?
Could be as to s-e-x,
but probably not any
bent accompaniments.
Tomboys won’t lie.
Labels: attitude, bs, fantasy, honesty, sex, tomboy
Saturday, January 02, 2016
Vapors
“Borne like a vapor! Can you imagine?
Her hair! Jeannie’s.”
“Yeah, but on the sweet summer air? This is
the desert. That was the Shenandoahs or
something, where you get a bit of blessed
moisture off the trees at twilight! Oh how I miss it!
Don’t you, Gramps?"
Next day, Gramps, retaining the concept of mountain,
found an alley near Commerce Street with a gray-white
smear of one at the end.
Approached Monica, hard in a black pixie cut.
“Jeannie!” implored he.
Suddenly Sheriff Dentz drove at her, red lights spinning.
“Solicitation!”
“I didn’t fuckin say Hello!”
He gave Gramps to Deputy Alice Grimes to un-babble.
“It’s pretty about the hair and everything,” she told
Chuck when he came to pick him up. “Hey! Just
happened to think: my grandma goes to a daycare
over on Painted Horse. Her hair’s not bad, and they play
cards. Poker. For money.”
“He was a shark!”
“No greenhorns there, believe me!”
“You’ve been awful nice. And I don’t wanna drop the ball
from shyness when I meet someone nice. Some coffee or
something tomorrow?”
“No wife?”
“Left a good while back.”
“Had her reasons?”
“Maybe a thousand."
“Here’s my card.”
Gramps only said in the Jeep going home that
he guessed he "went too far, bit haywire," and things
confused him, "but it’s such a lovely lovely song! I can’t
get her outa…”
“Way it goes.”
Labels: dementia, fantasy, gambling, Jeannie With the Light Brown Hair, law enforcement, obsession, prostitution, song, Stephen Foster, Western
Monday, February 23, 2015
Rain and Friends
Drifting and Dreaming
A Saturday rain had been almost guaranteed, but not this monsoon!
Kept Hodge in, so he watched the Weather Channel, drifted into daydreams.
Violent ones! He took out Arabs, got medals.
Just an outline. Then, slept for two hours, waking up with ferocious munchies as he was being honored by the UN, but as a steady Man of Peace.
There had been in there a totally unsatisfactory
argument with Gwen. Soon to be ex! he now
proclaimed silently.
A homosexual episode tried to horn in, also. He had
tried before with ridiculous results.
The man was transferred soon after, and he bumped
into him in an airport once. They had a quick drink,
since this Rentz had a date with a pilot.
“Stay with your pilot, but as for me, there's work
to be done!” Hodge shouted over the pounding rain
as he hunted for crackers.
Gwen phoned, promising the deluge would stop
by early evening, so they decided to see a Russian
historical flick.
Gwen laughed at the inept titling. She had taken
a couple of Russian courses at Cornell, and hung
around the department, then in an old house.
Mostly for the food, since two professors cooked
lunch if she brought the ingredients.
After the movie, at the Too-Chaste Coffee Emporium he knew enough to say nothing of the daydream.
"Oh that’s just Walter Mitty!" she would have said.
Most everything of his was dismissed in a literary
manner. She often wore a French beret. Though
tonight, a Yankee’s cap.
Hodge stayed benign, perhaps hung-over from the
vividness of the dreams. She found it refreshing.
He had been labeled Chatty Kathy by her several times.
She snuggled up. Tried to steal his Danish while
whispering amorous plans.
He decided to keep her.
Labels: daydream, dream, fantasy, heroism, homosexuality, monsoon, rain, relationship;Weather Channel, weather
Friday, January 09, 2015
Working Conditions
Zink adored the fierce concentration
needed in his position at Consolidated.
Thus when women flooded noisily by his
cubicle on breaks, he seethed.
A narrowing of passageways there formed
a sort of choke-point.
So he choked one.
Sorry for the cheap rhetorical trick, but
it IS expressive of the language of his
present domicile, where men joke of their
fatal transgressions at cards etc.
Except George Washington.
"I AM THE FATHER OF MY COUNTRY!"
insists he, periodically.
The rest of the time, though, he inhabits
Roseltandazerfaland, in fantastic scifi imagery.
Quite worth listening for, if the men would bother.
Zink does, now dwelling on a beautiful promontory there.
Some place!
Labels: fantasy, insanity, irritation, perfectionism, scifi, women, work
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Even His Fantasies Clotted
Thus moaning actress
blocked by his 3rd grade
teacher, still young and pretty,
and likewise moaning. Actually,
actress groans on background, then
both shut down for his mas-
culine grunts. Say bye bye since
a clot speeds from leg to brain,
without stopping for coffee.
Thus moaning actress
blocked by his 3rd grade
teacher, still young and pretty,
and likewise moaning. Actually,
actress groans on background, then
both shut down for his mas-
culine grunts. Say bye bye since
a clot speeds from leg to brain,
without stopping for coffee.
