no anyone can buy shoes, I said,
but what then,
and all I could see were her fractured blue eyes
of our childhood,
Eight o’clock, she says. Before I can
put away the sickle, Mother phones the
principal to say I’m assisting her.
I forgive you for before, your fury
spilled into me like a firefighter's hose
thrashing at danger. Now streetlights
drift past your sadness driving us
home.
Jack had proudly waved his paper cut-out of a ship, painted purple and glued to a double popsicle stick, when she picked him up at 2:00 that afternoon. “It’s the Pinta!” Jack wriggled, patting Lena’s arm and gazing up at her, thrilled to display his preschool creation.
Does it contain names, plans
for a government overthrow
from some clandestine leader
unkempt and wild-eyed?
Photos from inside the Pentagon?
The problem with working on a home while living in it is that you are forever doomed to be making room, clearing away the debris of one to make room for the other, constantly compromising. Because neither is ever in its fullness, both remain in a protracted, seemingly infinite process of getting in each other’s way.
FILM / Captain Canada's Movie Rodeo / November 2023 / Gabriel Ricard
Gabe goes to bat for indie studios in this month’s Captain Canada’s Movie Rodeo.
"You should take Karate!" Julian said, kicking the air. “That's what I do. Then you can beat him up!" He went on to demonstrate a flurry of jabs and impossible blocks, battling an invisible enemy, until we got to the intersection of Highland Avenue and Spring Street, where he had to turn off to go home.
One day I invited her home after school. My mother bought cookies. Her parents didn’t want her to go, but she came anyway. We were happy walking home as I told her about my games and chemistry set, but when we got to our apartment my mother sent Grace home. I didn’t understand.
In French, voyant means clairvoyant, a seer. It also may mean dramatic or tasteless. Both of these connotations sometimes fit me like a glove. I tend to say the wrong thing at the worst time. I can become addicted to negative feelings. It never bodes well to be seen as cranky, and as I grow older, I learn I must shift into better behavior.
“Well, aren’t you going to say something about the car? The transmission in this thing was like nothing I’d ever seen. Any other shop woulda told you to sell it for scrap, but not me.” He pats the hood. “Runs like a top, now.”
I am hard, I know,
as a beetle-black sedan
rolling away from my own funeral
with well-wishes intact.
Detective Murphy: I’m Detective Thomas Murphy. Do you understand why you’re here, Mr. Browne?
Jonathan Browne: I suppose.
Detective Murphy: It’s not really an “I suppose” kind of question. Do you or do you not?
Jonathan Browne: I brought myself down here, didn’t I?
During the lunch hour, we used the husk of this pen to smoke weed somebody managed to squeeze somewhere out of Missouri. Now, it holds a spitball, saturated brown with resin and dripping chew spit.
Conversations were always funny with you, neither of us speaking each other’s language all too well but still capturing each other's hearts. I couldn’t catch my breath when I asked you, What’s your least favorite fruit? and with fists balled, you said, I hate Olive Garden!
Hand-solo that hard on, a horn dog.
I am a wet dream, I am the WAP, I am the warning, I am a Sex-Jedi,
jukeboxing your mind, I’m Doja Cat, random erections for that extra
kick, IYKYK, a kosher knob slobbing, corn on the cob, gawk 3000.
We walk into the venue and it is literally empty. The three of us are the only ones in the crowd. Maeve stalls, tuning way longer than she needs, before yelling into the mic: “Everyone at the bar come on in, it’d really mean a lot. We’re the last of the night and we’re gonna play hard.” She starts with a fury.
When I was a teenager, I got robbed a lot. This was the mid-1970s, and starting at age 16 I lived alone on East Second Street and Avenue A in New York City. I was short and scrawny. I wore glasses with thick frames and lenses. I bought my clothes from a man who sold rags from a pushcart. I was an easy, if not an affluent, target.
Things are so terrible in the world right now, and we only have each other. It's not the worst thing, a community. Sometimes it's the greatest thing, actually.
I spend my days watching the same show over and over again. The setting is the Rutherford Funeral Home and Crematorium across the street from my house, and the cast consists of characters suffering the greatest loss anyone can know. I sit behind double-paned glass and wait for a new family to ring the bell, then watch as the funeral director welcomes them in.