Each month, write a new collection.
DivorceDo you remember the last afternoon, the one where we knewit was over before it ended? How your whiskey breath rose and fellin your esophagus like a stain? The way our newish kitchen lightsdappled bluish CFL brightness onto the granite, highlighting ourhands and the small shadows along the creases of your face?You traded looks with the floor and my brown eyes - now bullets-hard as any alloy. It was all hard.There was the counselor and the apologies that fluttered the roomlike confetti made of broken bones. There was the trip to the zoo,where you found me with my lover, our babies so small, you picked up one by a chubby hand, then hoisted him to your breast by his arm, and all my screaming as you ran stopped rhesus monkeys cold. Hard to remember how cold it was that day.Later came court-ordered exchanges at a thousand feet, littletoes in Stride Rite’s hitting asphalt flat, running in a straight line, we both lost weight, too worn down by then to know any exact time. I blamed you for our artifice of happiness. After our existence was measured in pauses, the house foreclosed but before we gave them the keysI dug our maple out of hardpan, the drought that summer held everything hostage.If we were talking again, it wouldn’t be you walking the halls of this house,in yet another summer -so much repressive sun- it’s hard to hide in the light anymore, you would laugh with a deep rasp, like river rocks in a drainpipe, breathwhispering from your vinegar lips, the merciless words that would scale the trenches of your throat, because I am now the hunched coward, shrunken insidesoft, melting, walls. You’d say so only I could hear, “it’s you, it’s always been you.”
Wow, that is powerful and angry and I love it. I love the zoo imagery.
let me catch my breath - amazing.
Well done. My favorite line: "the merciless words that would scale the trenches of your throat."
I'm too tired to work on a cleaner draft, but at least I’m writing. Thanks for the opportunity for some creative writing, John!All Crawly ThingsI love the way they look—outside. Spindly like my mother’s arthritic fingers Long-legged for tippy-toeing around others Alien, invading eyes as if they know my secretsI love the way they move—outside. Double-jointed and sideways as if practicing law Flying erratic to fool any prey on a straight path Leaping, crawling, and scurrying late for workI love what they do—outside. Strategize while trolling for food or potential mates Spin webs to catch, poison and consume them Lay eggs as if Sir Guinness was counting.Carole Avila7/9/15
You're writing well Carole, as you always do!
well done. I like the use of the repeated "I love..." & "-outside"
Ah, shucks. Thanks, T2 and John. Your comments are like gold stars that I never got in kindergarten. Scary that I still like gold stars!
gold stars are cool.
Meeting a Mountain LionThe sign readMountain lion sightingLook large and wave your hands and keep hold of smallchildrenThey call it by many namesMountain lion, Puma, CougarWhatever the name it is still the sameBig cat on the looseIf I were to run across one I think I would turn to stonePetrified to move a muscleA sheer fear as my enemy looks at me and snarlsWhat defense would I have I could yell and wave to look biggerOr I could pick up a branch and haveit eat through some wood before getting to me, and climbing a tree, well, that would be helping it out and corner myself I think I would just stand there and take fate by the hand to see if I would surviveI always thought the big cat was a timid creature and didn't like to be seen?Well, in any case, I would be encroachingon their territory and from what I know aboutcat's and their space, they like to protect itI still would like to see one thoughAnd have a camera with me to captureit on filmNo one would believe me without the evidence of a picture!So, I will take my hikes and take my cameraAnd prepare to see the wildest and rarest ofNorth American creatures without harming itI think it will be beautifulA big cat in the wildThe first I will see and probably the last time I ever see oneface to faceI will embrace the moment This will be exciting to witnessa real cougar, a puma, a real mountain lionto remember alwaysand have my camerapoised and ready to take a snapshotIf it does look hungry I can look larger than I amWave my arms in the air and yell at it to scare itAnd maybe, just maybe, take a photographwith its golden smooth hair and it yellow green eyesand its snarling teeth with its call to the wildIn its high pitched growlit's distinctive growl
I saw one once while hiking. I knew he was much much more powerful than I was!
Geez, I'll stick to fearing bugs. At least I'm more powerful than they are.
claustrophobiawas it Dadsending meunder housesbecause I was smallof my brotherholding me downunder a blanketuntil the panicgripped me so tightI lost my sense of beingit could not be waterI still love sittingat the bottom ofthe pool orgliding under watermaybe I was bornthat way maybeI couldn't waitto escape the wombit explains why Idon’t like to be touchedwhy seeing picturesof people huddledwith their faces touchingshivers meexcept by myone loverand then Istill needa spacetime aloneand why I’m notafraid of deathwhere I am no moreor I am somuch morea spiritfree fromall fear
I think you could do a month (or at least a week on fear. I am already thinking of another one.
I would take a year. Love your work, Thomas Thomas.
thank you Carole. sometimes I think I'm confident and independent, but I just want to be and the encouraging words are really appreciated (and John is such a giver).
but it's the emotions that drives us, so it would be a year of really great stuff.
I think you two are right. Maybe we'll do a month later in the year!
My Inner Ham Got Stage FrightSmith's Dress Shop had a fashion showwhen I was fourI was one of the cutting edge modelsThe Veterans Hall was packed with peoplewaiting to see me.. uh, I mean usI was eager to greet my publicFrom oldest to youngest, they strutted outworking the catwalkI was dying to show off my skillsThe time finally came for my earth-shattering debutI marched out...Wow, that's a lot of peopleThe crowd held their breath in anticipationI just stood thereoverwhelmed by the smiles and cheersA voice behind me urged me forwardyeah, that wasn't gonna happenmy legs were frozen in placeFinally I found my voiceMom said it was cute, funny,And sad all rolled up into one momentI had nowhere I could gonowhere to hideso in that tacky 70's brown dress...I stood there and cried
That's an awfully sweet memory, but you must have been sad at the time!
Awwh!! The best laid plans...
Catholic. My Father is Catholic.My mom was born again Christian.Many of my friends in 1st grade were Catholic.So during recess, I would give into peer pressure. The girls would play Bloody Mary in the bathroom.I was secretly very intrigued by the game.Bathroom lights off. Eyes to the mirrorWith hands cuffed around them...And we would chant..."Bloody Mary One,Bloody Mary Two,Bloody Mary Three..."Until she'd jump through the mirror at us!Scaring us almost to death.You'd never seen little girls run so fast!But day after day, we did it.And day after day, we were horrified and ferociously excited....The scary thing is,As I get older,The more and more I recognize the face of the bloody Mary,She looks like me..
Oh NICE ENDING! Fantastic! Send this one out!
Thanx, where to, would you suggest?