Category: Fiction

Canoe is wrong. We did not go in a car. We travelled by air in a banana. A slice of apple was our portion, and a piece of bread. Are you familiar with manna? That is what it was like—almost. We climbed up into the battleship. I know it sounds preposterous. That’s because it is. We rode a long yellow bus—not a school bus. This bus had beds, a sink, a stove, a shower, and a microwave oven.there was only four of us, and the driver. Not a canoe or a battleship. A long, yellow bus.

Tell her the only truth she will accept.

Cut through the shock and denial

Pierce that bubble of gin in her head.

A bottle in her pocket kept her satisfied to the end.

Do you know what she wrote on that piece of paper that she folded up and handed to me?

Neither do I, I threw it into the fire without reading it.

Whatever it was, wasn’t worth reading, I’m sure.

She herself was very very comely. Saturated with moisturizer and full of milk and honey. She wore a dress that accented her features. She danced well and drank just a few, not enough to get drunk. She drove a corvette away from the club, out into the country. She liked coming into the city occasionally. Her dogs greeted her at the driveway to her house. That was all.

Dreaming, I escaped through a house

On a train. Drinking, I floated to the

Top of the morning. Bellevue instead

Of Berkeley, as you wish. Give me a

Slice of cake and a couple scoops of

Ice cream. Down the hatch. I don’t

Know where this yellow submarine is

Going.

I feel so solid. Permanent. Oozing

Cement from every pore. Sliding from

A shovel to a hole. What shall I do?

Oh, what shall I do? I like plants.

Maybe I could hold a plant. Maybe I

Should start my own restaurant. Or

Maybe a board game store. Hell,

Maybe I’ll buy a football team. With

What money, you might ask? All that

I’ve saved up from taking orders as a

Pizza delivery person. Yes, I deliver

Pizzas in style, driving a Rolls Royce.

Walking in the woods, I smell something burning. Could it be aliens?

I like ice cream and cake. Doesn’t everybody? But my stomach says not so fast! Everything in moderation.

Waves crash on the beach. Nothing washed up, except seaweed. Fish are jumping, you know how I feel; and I’m feeling good.

There was lipstick on his pants. Guess she kissed him where she missed him. Only a graveyard howl can do it justice.

Point me in the right direction, then let me go, go, go. I don’t know about you, but I know how I feel, and it’s not good.

Riding on a fire truck, siren wailing, horn blowing. Is it close, or is it far? If they know, they’re not telling.

On the road, I hitch-hiked up a mountain, only to spill my chili at a local tavern.

Across the Great Plains, I wandered and I wondered, where are the buffaloes?

On my desk, with a sweaty hand, I gripped a charcoal pencil. Never had I stooped so low.

On top of an iceberg, I drifted for many miles, laughing at the prospect of having a spaghetti dinner that night.

Is there a function waiting for me at the conjunction of two taxis and one ice cream cone dripping all over my shirt?

Clinging to my last ounce of dignity, I slowed down when the traffic light turned yellow.

Across the table from me, Madonna spoke in Japanese. Do you like sushi? I asked. She shook her head. So, why not? Too much sodium, she said. I wasn’t sure how accurate that was, so I just nodded and moved on.

Today I jumped up on a ray of sunshine and surfed across outer space into another galaxy where I found two furry green creatures who drove a spaceship with their noses.

In the evening, the salt and pepper of the day settles down to season my memories of all that has happened.

Floating down a river on an inner tube, my teeth came out and fell to the bottom.

Bellbottom blues bellow bluesfully down the street at the Bradfordville Blues Club.