Monday, August 24, 2015
Sunday morning quiet while Nanny sleeps
Baking cookies with rainbow sprinkles and peanut butter bits
Bit a oatmeal
Oatmeal is a health food, yeah?
Molly’s got that look on her face, all
Steals a handful of sprinkles and before you know it she’s all green lips and yellow tongue and she’s all sugar sugar high
Molly’s keeled over and says
“I need to go to the hospital! My appendix is bursting!”
It isn’t true but whatever
Put her in her snowsuit and walk to the bus stop and then she’s fine
And then she’s a-okay
And then she wants to go back home and finish those cookies
Nanny woke up and is already into the brandy
“What are you girls up to?”
Slurred words like slug juice
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Darwin and Freud walk into a bar, one after another and neither know who the other is. Darwin orders a pint from the bartender, the darkest ale they’ve got. Freud sits down a table and waits for a server to come. When one doesn’t, he approaches the bar slowly, assessing what they might have, closing his eyes and deciding if he wants scotch or gin. Darwin sits at a tall stool and takes a book from his coat pocket. He sips his beer, the froth gathering on his upper lip. He licks it off. Freud waits for his friend to arrive, never checking his pocket-watch, never drinking from the rocks glass filled one thumb length with something brown.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
an in-flight magazine with Air Canada
I’m not going to tell you again, it wasn’t me who offered your name up. What am I going to have to do to convince you that I would never do that to you. Okay, alright, I get your anger, but I’ll be dames if let you come in my house with your accusations. Are you kidding me? I must be asleep cause this whole thing is unbelievable. A bad dream. No, a fucking nightmare. I did my best for you! I actually gave a shit about you which is more than I can say for how you feel about me. No, seriously, just stop! I don’t want to hear any of your excuses. I stood up for you, Trina. I fucking stuck my neck out for you and it’s still not enough. But you know what, I’m over it so consider yourself fully free or whatever it is you’ve been after. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.
Monday, August 24, 2015
When I look at your face, I remember my best friend from the 10th grade. I thought I had found my soulmate. Someone who I could talk easily with, be always welcome at her house, be always welcome in her life. I would have done anything for her and I thought she would have done anything for me. We’re not friends anymore, but you and her are so much alike that I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or if I just miss the good things about her and I’m forgetting all the bad. I know you’re different people. I know that. But your laugh is the same and the way you move like a dancer is the same. And the way you hug me is the same. So sometimes I feel like I’ve found my soulmate again: someone who understands me and encourages me and sees me. But then I worry if one can turn sour, maybe another one can do. You might not be cut from the exact same cloth, but in my fear pit lives the defenses that you in fact might be.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Hey Andrews One and Two, quit your yammering. I mean it this time. Whatever you think you’re getting away with, you won’t. I’ve seen kids like you in my day, don’t think you can fool me. It’s not that I don’t respect your attempts, because believe me, I do. But they just won’t work on me. Now you two boys may appear to be just whispering, and probably about who is going to stick that rock up his nose first, but I can see right through you and I know your little game. This is not my first rodeo, so to speak, and you’re not my first broncos! I’ll tell you something, the things kids will do to get out of nap time! There was once an Andrew in my very own kindergarten class. He stuck a pebble so far up his nose he had to go to the hospital and have it surgically removed. Now he missed nap time, alright, but that image is ingrained in my memory for all time!
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Art & Fear
David Bayles & Ted Orland
When Moses comes home, you will reach for him like you once did. He will turn towards you but shake his head slow, like rain moving across the water. You will ask him what he saw, what he did, what he didn’t do. He will turn away, like summer does in September, and turn on the TV. You will be patient for days, for nights, for months, until one day you will reach for his hand. He will extend his open palm. You will put your cheek in it, a puzzle piece, and he will finally cry. A tsunami is often caused by an earthquake. You know this, and you will feel the ground shake. The tears don’t stop until the moon hangs drunk on the horizon. The wave comes in.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Overheard at a bus stop
Gimme a smile, Goldie! No, not that fake smile! Give us a truthful, good, honest one! I don’t know why this child doesn’t want to smile – all I do is give her what she wants. She isn’t mine, oh no way. You think I look old enough to be a mother? HA! How a three year old learns how to fake smile is beyond me. It’s her mother. Truthfully, I’ve never met such a wicked woman. I play along, I play along with her strange games but when I go up to my room at night and close the door sometimes I just can’t stop thinking about how she looks at her children. Like they are the carriers of some disease! Goldie vomited on the coffee table while there was company over and she dragged her out by her pigtail.