Friday, August 31, 2018

 

Goo


Estralita's Mother made it.


We couldn’t wait to devour the
gooey deliciousness!


Fingers only the Old-Country Rule,
and we were fine with it!


Slobs really, and guilty after.
Somebody throws paper towels--
a thumping package--on the
break table, and we clean
ourselves up prior to the bathroom.


Silently. Embarrassed.


Jennifer drifts in from assignment
and finishes the bowl, her exquisite
fingers glistening in the light.


Making the light, it seems.

LET’S FACE IT SHE’S BEAUTIFUL
WE’RE NOT

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Friday, July 15, 2016

 

Direct



Not that he was one for radical experiments,
but Ash revolted that Spring day.

Pale knot in front of his building, and crude sign:

                        FAMILY HASENT EATIN!

Up to his office, but has had Doorman Charlie bundle them
into his limo for a trip to the boatyard.

Now, Secretary Jeanine texts Hobart Grimsley there.

       Sml yacht delv 2wks. Train this crew!

His old Captain back, of course, but woman
to handle galley. Man, bartender and
general mate. The one cockeyed girl
helping  her mother. Other girl, waitress.

Just his business partner along for the
shakedown cruise. Nursing frosty gin and
tonics as afterglow slides silkily under.

“Gotta...be cutest waitress of all time!”

“Thinking of marrying her.”

“You’re some Libertarian! Fuck anybody!”







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Thursday, January 24, 2013

 




Divinity
 

In a grove hidden from traffic, Jicky declared himself
a god. 

But only to Bell-Boy. who was eating from a can
of Chef Boyardee Beefaroni with a  wooden
mixing spoon. 

“THIS is my god!” He held up the can and waved the spoon, from which bits of macaroni flew. 

Jicky smiled, Beefaroni being his sacred symbol. 

The next day, a cop and social worker collared Bell-Boy
who stayed back to read a comic book as Jicky explored dumpsters. 

He was taken to the new shelter where the mayor
pointed out his bed on TV and presented a box of Powerbars.  

Jicky didn’t have to see it, for he sensed it on his
inner receiver. Then he performed what he thought
he’d never: blessing the mayor and city.

 He’d go later in back of Starbucks. Cyber–Colley
would put it online.

 





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