The men sat in the backyard on stools, folding chairs, quarter cut tree trunks; stood ’round the barbeque grill, smelled that charcoal turning gray. Talked a little, mostly just sucked on Budweiser bottles. Opening em up one after another. Women folk stayed inside out of the Sun, peeling potatoes, chopping slaw, making sauce for the […]
The old man couldn’t sleep last night. He didn’t even know how long it’d been. Up so late, staring out at the one street light. Christmas colors on some of the houses, but, mostly pitch black in the skies, moon was covered by a haze, stars weren’t out. Just a darkness, a weariness ’bout the […]
The crows stayed North for the winter this year. In the past they’d fly down South like retirees; Arkansas, Texas, Mississippi, warm places. Tells me there’s a change in the air. The climate is changing. Soon North’ll be South and life will change too. He used to watch em out on the telephone wires from […]
What’d happened to him over the years, no one could really tell. He’d gone from being a relatively happy fellow to being down in the dregs. Which some say is the best part of a wine. Others would disagree. Time flew by. He found himself alone in his closing years. Living in a room filled […]
Winter came early. Snow, rain, slush on sidewalks, your hand not there. And, it darkened early. Only the moon gave guidance. Oh North star, where are you? Lifeless grass yellows. Autumn has gone. You have left. My shadow haunts me. I’ve yet to see your face. We played as children. Rubbing noses. Eskimo kisses. Love […]
They sat there in a line of cars a couple of miles long. Waiting, the two of em could see cop lights flashing up ahead; an ambulance went past then another. The sounds of semis standing still while drivers in Ford’s, Chevrolet’s, and a Dodge worked their way out of line to take off in […]
These were men without cars, wives, maybe some kids in another state, perhaps a family in a different country. The bus picked them up in front of a cheap rundown hotel outside of Gary. Their clothes were dirty, smelled like cigarettes, liquor, men. All of the men were old and black. Worn out from life. […]
They looked at old pictures together. Black and whites, some crinkled and tearing apart, held together with pieces of tape on the back of them. Others in fine condition, high school photos, wedding shots, pictures of a first Christmas together, some older ones of their parents standing beside an old Chevrolet; they remembered the car. […]
The old Ford truck started right up. For months it’d sat out there on the gravel driveway without anyone thinking about moving her. The whole family, Bobby Jr., Tommy, and Lynette, just looked at it from the kitchen windows with snow piled up on it, thinking of their father and how he used to drive […]
He looked at the books on his desk; Norman Mailer’s , An American Dream, Jean Baudrillard’s, America, Ulysses by Joyce, were all lined up along with others; dust covered, pages torn, leather cover of the Holy Bible starting to crack, a collection of poetry by Ted Hughes folding and bending. At one time he had […]
