writing

Things Change


The tempo of the steel wheels got faster as the train began to pull away. Carl pressed his hand on the window and watched the prettiest girl he’d ever known, his new bride, Sara, hurry down the platform waving after him.

He was gone to fight in the struggle. – Southeast Asia -. He was still unsure what it was about, but they all assured him that he was protecting America.

So he went. And, there he found

 

Firefights

A Carl he’d never known 

Wounded and dead, piled like driftwood

A Purple Heart

Morphine and his own proclivity for the same

 

The tempo of steel wheels lessened as the train eased into the station. Carl pressed his hand on the window and searched the platform for Sara. They had taken away his morphine, but substitutes are easily found, in a war zone. Life was never going to be what he’d grown up believing.

 

Medicines that raced like trains through his veins were more important 

More important than the bride he barely knew

More important than money or food or family

More important than life itself

 

The train doesn’t stop here anymore. 

The economy is in decline. 

Property values are non-existent.

Sara lives alone at the edge of town. 

Carl never stood a chance, 

– bowled down by forces beyond his control.



OLWG · writing

OLWG#172- Micro Poetry to Celebrate our Dystopic Past

This piece was written for OLWG# 172



rocket girls have choices, but rocket boys always become rocket men

###

it’s as clear as the nose on his face; the boy’s a scrapper – always was

###

“I don’t wanna do this”
“you’re the one who wanted babies”
“but can’t there be another way?”
“maybe we could steal them”
“OK lets get to it”

 



The prompts were:

  1. the nose on his face
  2. can’t there be another way?
  3. rocket boys

OLWG · writing

OLWG#171- Bright, Golden, Warm

This piece was written for OLWG# 171



Step outside, I am clothed in sunlight

Bright
Golden
Warm

Straighten my necktie,
Shoot my cuffs, and smile

Bright
Golden
Warm

Choose the lot at the corner of
East Cesta and Hurricane Street
Glimpse the yellow dome of the capital

Bright
Golden
Warm

Weave through the crowd in the street
Lift two wallets, one from a gentleman’s coat pocket
The other plucked from a Georgia Jay shoulder bag
The prize though is the Rolex

Bright
Golden
Warm



The prompts were:

  1. you can be sincere and still be stupid
  2. sunny place; shady people
  3. not even the poets