Macedonia – Prompt 24

The streets are chilly
I can tell from the steam coming from Lake Ohrid
Still, as I get out of bed, I can pictures its teal depths
and its silvery rocks underneath,
I decide to wear shorts and walk to lake’s edge
with breakfast apple and hearty coffee in hand.


Bedding coiled around my boyfriend’s legs
waits for me to smooth it out and conform it to my own twists and dances with sleep
Dream State: I’m coming for you.


It is just past five
and I have woken up my boyfriend,
who’s rummaging through another of
his endless cache of duffel bags
for the gym ensemble required
for his PT test.
Every second day
of every drill weekend,
he dons this,
after having intoned
“But I don’t want to play soldier today.”
Yet, when he returns home tonight, exhausted,
he’ll still make dinner for us
and I’ll clean up the chaos of his culinary creation.

For every year of his life –
ever since his Korean-born mother stood a four-year old Ron at the kitchen stove
and instructed him to watch, Ron has been a cook more than anything else – soldier, student, helicoptor pilot, behaviorist.

He holds me close,
assures me,
“You got this,”
then grabs his army backpack.
Before trying to grab a few minutes sleep,
I pour a glass of cold water.

We’re both tired this morning.

Moon Haiku

After the long rain
the sky looks like crushed velvet
and the moon a brooch

Zombies in Space – Prompt 19

NIGHT. INT. TV on movie that could be from ’80s. Think Golden Girls-Meets-Night Stalker.

“Don’t let me take your time –
it’s been a wild news night –
oh, you’re just getting in?
Well, I could fill you in – ”

CLOSE-UP. Face of Space Expert whose arm is bit at crucial moment of space escape.
“Someone turn off that damn movie!
We’ve got a real emergency.
Two valves to our air supply are tangled.”

“Hm, hated Air Supply. How ’bout a band I could dance to,”
comments the smart-mouthed girl Space Expert with unnecessarily red lips, whose brains are later shared by the Undead.

“Ok, knock it off. Bailor says we need to fix something, we need to fix it.”

This deep voice, OFF-SCREEN, is Captain Space Hunk who, we eventually learn, has the hunk DNA that makes him immune to the zombie virus.

Smart-mouthed girl Space Expert shrugs and goes to door to doorway.
Turning to deliver a one-liner, she nearly walks into our Doctor Space Heroine, who has a forehead smoother than a newborn baby.

“It’s ok,” says Doctor Space Heroine. “The guys know what you meant to untangle.
Smart-mouthed Girl Space Expert goes off in a snit, while Doctor Space Heroine absorbs the good-natured smoldering
of Captain Space Hunk, who stands to broadcast to the audience that he is actually taller (lift) than his super-tall costar —–

The screenwriter took another sip of his now cold coffee and grimaced.
There was no way he could give his producer a regurgitation of 2001: A Space Odyssey‘s Hal 9000 entering this scenario.

Then, there was a power surge. He looked down at his computer to see the blue screen of death.

“Damnit! Space zombies! Why not Jane Austen in space?”

Hey , that wasn’t bad. Jot that down. Maybe I can pitch it to Warner. (more…)

Table for Two – Prompt 18

Peckinpah hummed to something on the radio –
“Name me somebody who’s not a parasite
and I’ll go out and say a prayer for him.”

Realizing his guest might not be a Dylan fan,
Sam turned the radio off, and looked for his tea cozy.
the one no one who knew him suspected he owned.

As he looked, other items in the small trailer –
he was on-set – got thrown or kicked to a hiding place.
Except for the magazine with his expected guest on the cover.

The Midwest, what could he ask about its influence?
It wasn’t the West, the real West, the open plain
where men, not committees, determined the future.

Just as he began to second-guess his invitation,
he heard a car nearing his temporary abode.
Passing the bathroom, he caught his face in the mirror

And grimaced at his nerves, and his sloppy napkin folds.
A car door shut, footsteps, then a knock -solid and manly –
that Sam answered. “Well, hello, Mr. Benton, glad you found us.”

Joy Division, 1 a.m. – Prompt 17

The first boyfriend I lived with
had a CD single
of “Love Will Tear Us Apart Again.”

For two years, he and I had a pattern.

He wrote at his computer, a bag of grapes nearby.
I came home and made our dinner salads,
and, later, wrote through the night.

We never talked about marriage.
We talked about names we would give to children
we never had.

The other day,
I saw a picture he posted of his son,
named for Dashiell Hammett.

My new boyfriend and I agreed on no kids.
He’s a Journey fan.

I love him despite this.

Are You Ok?

Big parking lots make me feel so lonely.

So far from the street, so far from the sidewalk,
so far from the bus stop.

Tethered to nothing but the errand,
I walk to my destination,
certain of the possibility of being apprehended
for breaking an unknown law.

Quaint 1950s America wouldn’t make me
walk the expanse of a football field
to buy milk, bread and razors.

I remember the walks
from my grandmother’s house
to the Safeway.

Armed with my grandmother’s
shakily written list, with prices in the margin,
I soldiered down the street
and through a lot
behind a bar
called the Pyle In.

On one trip,
I walked half a block before I encountered
a man lying on the sidewalk in my path.
He stirred.

“Are you ok,” I asked.

Rubbing his eyes, he said, “What’s ok?”

We both knew here was nothing else to say.
I continued to the store,
saying nothing to my grandmother
when I returned.

To this day, I can think of a dozen responses
in answer to a child’s “Are you ok?”

But, the parking lots are so big,
why would there ever be a need?

Leda/Zeus: The Texts

Z (scratching his ass)
I saw you the other night. U up?

L (lotioning her elbows)

U up?

Did I not make that clear?

LOL. U still mad?

Why would I be?

idk. Things got crazy that night.

Yeah. You drugged me and convinced me you were a swan. Crazy.

I can tell u r mad.

I’m tired.

I get it. In the mood for company?

What do you think?

Should I call instead?

Are you serious!?





Then what – Im consfused

You are a con and you are confused. Congrats.


Good night. And lose my number.

sure. Whatever.

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