87. We eat. We aren’t at all intriguing And by no means something permanent. The recipes of your life require reading And my line is no indeterminate, But what writ will write all your wanting, What reader page through my unnervings? The result of a sentence is its ending In forgotten concordance... Show more87. We eat. We aren’t at all intriguing And by no means something permanent. The recipes of your life require reading And my line is no indeterminate, But what writ will write all your wanting, What reader page through my unnervings? The result of a sentence is its ending In forgotten concordance or unattended burning. You gave up yourself — your learning For comfort where mistakes come for making; In our knowing shows misunderstanding So, I’ll slip away, ready for baking. Thus I have watched us grow fatter and fatter Alone king or queen, and alone is what matters. Aaron Gabriel Show less
Seven Moodiness and melancholy, your fuming fits of despair are second only to the almost delight you take in moments of self—pitying misery Comical in its tragicness, you bear the burdens of the world on such small little shoulders. And I wish I could remember what it feels like to be seven.... Show moreSeven Moodiness and melancholy, your fuming fits of despair are second only to the almost delight you take in moments of self—pitying misery Comical in its tragicness, you bear the burdens of the world on such small little shoulders. And I wish I could remember what it feels like to be seven. Sharon Rolenc 30 Show less
English Monologues V Flaming 0! Tell me why you Keep me from folly, from fellows? My lover proved himself a handyman, Sold all self, and to the profligate gallow Died when payment was made. You erect In privacy, I confess, where, I insist, For want of me (the Bible bless me) I’ve lived to where... Show moreEnglish Monologues V Flaming 0! Tell me why you Keep me from folly, from fellows? My lover proved himself a handyman, Sold all self, and to the profligate gallow Died when payment was made. You erect In privacy, I confess, where, I insist, For want of me (the Bible bless me) I’ve lived to where the devil's stockings Eighteen years. Conversing with myself that I might matriculate to world wisdom; I visited my notions and then I returned— More fashionable, more audacious by far, But no longer poor... And now I will, Having life opened and liberated to My amazement, still prefer your milk In my rich mouth. No, this made mind I'll mask and mottle in easy imagination, Adoring hand and potential procreation. Aaron Gabriel 31 Show less
Courting on the empty river shores at dusk and smothered in fog rusted iron wires whip out of cement blocks like courting serpents and gnash streams of clean air through the mist which darts and closes around half-concealed shapes great rocks that ebb out of the cloudy grey and force it, for a... Show moreCourting on the empty river shores at dusk and smothered in fog rusted iron wires whip out of cement blocks like courting serpents and gnash streams of clean air through the mist which darts and closes around half-concealed shapes great rocks that ebb out of the cloudy grey and force it, for a wink, away as liquid as the still, cool river footfalls clatter through the orange—brown pockmarked walls and shake plaster of? the tips of roots so intrusive to these halls they squirm their way through mouldy dirt and soil as liquid as the still, cool river shadows whisper, trickle out across the floor across the street in the street lamp heat come flutter down, and beat beat beat and tip tip tip and drip drip drip and slither sultry like an inky sheet darkness gathers, licks and slathers shattered clam shells tic and lift above a cloud of murk and mud the river passes over all 34- Show less
fish husks gape and spew forth trails of winding guts, lugged downstream, eaten up by snails and somewhere deep, where the yellow rock bottom drops in the sarsaparilla sludge, a stone is overturned, a belch of airjiggles up from under water logs and darkness gathers, licks and slathers Scott Bibus
Twenty Miles Up Creative Non—Fiction I barge into the house after the night shift on the Pediatric Unit. I kick my tennis shoes at the closet door, throw my scrub top and T—shirt at the couch in a futile attempt to break it, to break something. anything. Untying the thick pink drawstring I... Show moreTwenty Miles Up Creative Non—Fiction I barge into the house after the night shift on the Pediatric Unit. I kick my tennis shoes at the closet door, throw my scrub top and T—shirt at the couch in a futile attempt to break it, to break something. anything. Untying the thick pink drawstring I prepare to bombard the wingback chair with my pants when I realize the furniture isn’t you. I don't want the fight, or us, to be over. Shirtless I walk into the kitchen to get you on the phone. I have more barbs to hurl and more pleas for forgiveness. My hospital blues nearly fall to my ankles as I pick up the phone to dial your number. The kitchen table is a mess and needs to be cleared of the unpaid bills, catalogs and junk mail so I have a space to pound my head in frustration. As the phone rings I doodle stick figures shooting at one another on a post—it pad. "Promise you'll never talk to me again," you say through tears, “never call here." “Don't worry, I promise," trying desperately to make the tone of my voice defiant, I barely squeak the words out. “Bye.” you say, and hang-up. I hold the phone to my ear and let my forehead rest on the table. The silence in the phone dies with a gasp. \Vith a sudden click the dial tone hums in my car like a flatline alarm. I slip off the chair letting my knees hit the floor first. I twist, falling to the side, as my legs slip out from underneath me. My bare skin slaps the cold linoleum floor and I curl up in a fetal position. The phone still pressed tightly to my ear. I listen for your whisper but hear only the low frequency vibration of the mechanical tone. I stare up at the designer kitchen commissioned by my mother to look like earth from outer space and feel withdrawn fi'om the confines of the ordered universe. The cabinets are painted like the Caribbean Sea. I lie alone on the floor floating in absolute zero space staring at the continents and the oceans. Everything is above me, beyond my reach. The kitchen utensils become man—made artifacts visible from space like the Great Wall of China. Dirty glasses stand next to the sink like gigan- tic oil tanks. Silverware, knives with gleaming meta] handles, bottles of Australian Shiraz and Beaujolais Nouveau — lie spread over the counter giving the muddled appearance of massive urban sprawl. A dishtowel the color of farmed earth lies crusted and smelling of tangerines and rust. On the win— dowsill sits a dying African Violet in a fist-sized terra—cotta pot. 38 Show less
The dial tone disappears and my mind is pulled back into my body. I can hear clicking; the locking and unlocking of deadbolts and the Mother Superior of the Phone Company speaks: "If you would like to make a call please hang up and try again. If you need help. hang up and then dial your operator.... Show moreThe dial tone disappears and my mind is pulled back into my body. I can hear clicking; the locking and unlocking of deadbolts and the Mother Superior of the Phone Company speaks: "If you would like to make a call please hang up and try again. If you need help. hang up and then dial your operator." It's my last warning before the off—hook banshee wails. I hang up. I want; I need help. I dial zero. A recording answers, "US West, this is Joan." “How can I help you?" The real Joan sounds like a pack a day mother of eight. “I need help," I mutter. “Sir, would you like me to dial 9] I?" Practiced, emotionless and suc- cinct; right out of the US \Vest handbook. “No,” my voice has all the texture of a bloated drowned frog. I feel tears coming. .loan hangs up. The dial tone's malicious affinnation weighs on my eardrum like a dozen dancing Dumbos. My stomach pounds and my chest aches. I feel like I'm in a vacuum. My mind is slipping away again. Through my clouded eyes constellations appear in the speckled floor. There's Ursula Major. Gemini, Draco and Orion. I hang up and let the phone slip away. I roll over so that my face lies flat against the floor inches away from the oxen. My tears make U-turns and run down the other side of my face. Tangled and corkscrewed on the kitchen floor I am content to stay here the rest of my life. I open my eyes for a moment to peer underneath the oven. In the two inch crevasse between it and the floor, where cooks bury their mistakes and gremlins hide, staring back at me is a wrinkled and dry baby pea — all alone. Orion Wisness 39 Show less
The Release Papers Damon fingered the envelope in his pocket excitedly. He took a deep drag off his cigarette as he leaned up against the outside wall of the Chicken Shack where he worked, waiting for his friend to show up. His slender, muscular arms glistened with sweat from the early summer heat... Show moreThe Release Papers Damon fingered the envelope in his pocket excitedly. He took a deep drag off his cigarette as he leaned up against the outside wall of the Chicken Shack where he worked, waiting for his friend to show up. His slender, muscular arms glistened with sweat from the early summer heat. His shirtsleeves were rolled up over his shoulders, revealing his Lion of Zion tattoo. He was an attractive man. His facial features were almost regal with his prominent cheekbones framing a long sharp nose. His black hair, knotted in dreadlocks, reached down below his shoulder and was always swept back neatly by a cloth fastener died in the African colors of red, gold, black and green. He dropped his cigarette butt and ground it with the toe of his boot as his friend Ben walked up. “Damon, you're looking particularly happy tonight," Ben said as he held out his hand to shake. Damon placed the letter in Ben’s outstretched hand. “Is this what I think it is?" "You better believe it. “'e have some celebrating to do." "\Nell alright man, let’s go. I'll even buy the first round," Ben offered. They walked through the neighborhood in the direction of the halfway house where Damon resided. They passed the Korean—owned convenience store, the Suds-N-Dry Laundromat, several tenements and two liquor stores before reaching Lyle's. As they walked in, they left the night for the deeper darkness of Lyle’s. The door led into an almost claustrophobic room with a red vinyl padded bar top that ran the expanse of the room and wrapped in a curve around to the kitchen. More than a dozen people sat on the stools along the bar. The walls and ceiling of the establishment were painted black and a few small booths were squashed against the darkened wall. There was one worn 41 Show less
out pool table in the back corner that was always in use. Damon and Ben found one booth left open and sat down. Trudi swooped down on them immediately. “So, Damon, where you been? You’re not trying to avoid me now, are you?" Trudi wore a worn out appearance. She had darkened circles under her... Show moreout pool table in the back corner that was always in use. Damon and Ben found one booth left open and sat down. Trudi swooped down on them immediately. “So, Damon, where you been? You’re not trying to avoid me now, are you?" Trudi wore a worn out appearance. She had darkened circles under her eyes and her gray waitress dress was not ironed. Her straight black hair, pale skin and tall, lean body could have made her a modeling career had she lived somewhere other than this neighborhood. She looked older than her twenty- five years and had two kids that her mother took care of while she worked at Lyle’s. “No, no, I always look forward to seeing your lovely face, Trudi. But I've been laying low and kissing government ass. It finally paid off, though, since I got my release papers today and I came here to celebrate. Now, don’t give me a hard time, honey, and go get me a beer." “And one for me too, darlin'," Ben said leaning over towards her, smiling. Trudi ignored Ben as her eyes lingered for a moment on Damon. “I suppose this means I won't be seein' much more of you around here, will I?" “No, I suppose not,” Damon said uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “So it’s going to be like that, huh?" Trudi said, pressing, “You know, Damon, it’s not right for a man to mess with a woman that has kids if you're not going to play serious.” “Come on, Trudi, I never made any promises to you, and I told you my son lives in Minnesota. Did you honestly think that l was going to set up my home here in Chicago?" “I thought you’re not supposed to have alcohol while you're in that work program of yours," Trudi said. “I was tested last week, and why the hell would they test me on the day I get my release papers in the mail? I’m as good as out of that program. Jesus, you're as bad as Angela, always 42 Show less
second-guessing me. Now just get me the goddamned beer and stop busting my balls.” “Just because you been with me gives you no right to speak to me like that," Trudi said looking at him straight in the eye. “I guess concern is just wasted on you." And with that she turned abruptly on her heel and... Show moresecond-guessing me. Now just get me the goddamned beer and stop busting my balls.” “Just because you been with me gives you no right to speak to me like that," Trudi said looking at him straight in the eye. “I guess concern is just wasted on you." And with that she turned abruptly on her heel and went back up to the bar. “Damn, Damon, you sure do have a way with the ladies." Ben chuckled, watching Trudi walk away. “Yeah, well, don't you start,” Damon said. Trudi came back to the table with their beers, grabbed the money and walked away without a word. To Damon's relief the bar was busy enough to swallow her attentions away from them. He leaned back into the booth and sighed. “I can't believe that next month at this time I'll be hold- ing Saul in my arms. I’ve been four years without my son. Four years paying my debt to society while my son grows up without me. I feel like I've spent my life jumping through hoops. proving that I can behave myself, or at least making them think I can. I just hope that Angela won't force me to prove myself. I've done a fucking lifetime’s worth of proving myself," Damon said. “True enough. But you're this close to freedom, and if I had a woman like Angela waiting back home for me, l'd get down on my knees and beg if that's what it would take." Ben placed his palms together in demonstration. "Oh please! It's bad enough that momma's on her side, All the time she’s telling me ‘Angela just graduated from college - while she was working. Angela just got a job promotion. Angela’s aprofessz'onal.’ You'd think Angela was her blood daughter, and I wasjust some nitwit she got involved with." “Well, Angela’s a pretty special girl. You're lucky she's the one raising your son," Ben said. “Yeah, I know I couldn't ask for a better mother for Saul, Still, her accomplishments don't need to be thrown in my face all the time." 4- 3 Show less
“So, are you going to try and move back in with Angela?" “Hell no. She doesn't want to have anything to do with me in that way anymore. At least not right now,” Damon replied. “My mother found me an apartment in Angela's neigh- borhood, though, so that I can be close to my boy. She already put a... Show more“So, are you going to try and move back in with Angela?" “Hell no. She doesn't want to have anything to do with me in that way anymore. At least not right now,” Damon replied. “My mother found me an apartment in Angela's neigh- borhood, though, so that I can be close to my boy. She already put a deposit down, so she’ll be happy that my transfer went through." The two talked and laughed through another beer before Damon decided that it was probably time to go. “You coming, man?" He asked as he stood up out of the booth. "I don’t have a curfew to watch," Ben said. He cocked his head towards Trudi. “So, I think I’ll stay right where I'm at." Damon chuckled “Be careful, she plays for keeps," he warned. "Well, my man, I'll see you later." Damon breathed deeply as he stepped back out into the night and turned in the direction of the halfway house. His thoughts were filled with visions of Saul and Angela. Even though there was so much bad blood between them, he still loved her. He struggled with the demons of anger and jealousy about the thought that his mother would favor Angela over her own son. But his mother was always there to bail him out of every mess he got himself into. He knew when it came down to it that his momma would love him no matter what. He tried to shake off some of the resentment that he felt towards Angela. He smiled at the thought that if he played his cards right, Angela might look at him the way she used to with her sea green eyes The night had cooled off, taking the edge off the early summer heat. A breeze had picked up that almost lifted the oppressive humidity. The streets were filled with people. Little boys on bikes tore up and down the middle of the street. He felt the pounding repetitive beat of music coming out of several apartments. People filled the front Stoops of every walk-up he passed, and he nodded to people as he walked by. 4-4- Show less
He jogged up the stairs to the house, taking two stairs at a time. Drake and Jason were taking a smoke break outside and as Damon walked past they nodded, “Evenin', Damon." He nod- ded in reply. As he opened the door, a rush of cold air, noise and bright light broke the calmness of his evening.... Show moreHe jogged up the stairs to the house, taking two stairs at a time. Drake and Jason were taking a smoke break outside and as Damon walked past they nodded, “Evenin', Damon." He nod- ded in reply. As he opened the door, a rush of cold air, noise and bright light broke the calmness of his evening. He stepped inside the door and bent over the check—in desk to sign in for the night. He nodded to the evening clerk who cocked his head in the direction of the main office. In that instant Mike Stout walked out of the office and strode right up to Damon. “Come with me," he ordered plainly and turned on his heel to have Damon follow him. Damon’s heart sunk a bit and he asked quietly, “\K’dl now, Mike, good evening to you too. \Vhat can I do for you?" “You can come pee in a cup," Mike stated. His eyes gleamed. Damon closed his eyes for a moment before saying, "ls that absolutely necessary tonight, Mike?" “You know the routine with random testing. Tonight your number is up." “Come on, Mike, you just tested me last week. Please, I just got my release papers today. I get to go home to my boy. l’m as good as gone in a few weeks and I'll be out of your hair." “\Nell, you're not free yet," Mike replied, handing Damon the cup, Damon could feel the heat rising in the back of his neck and his fingers began clenching into fists. “Mike, I told you that tonight was not a good night to hassle me." “Don’t you argue with me, boy," Mike raised his voice as he tried to make his six foot stature as tall as Damon's. “Goddamnit, Mike, I'm close to getting out of here, so why the hell do you find a need to pick on me now? Is your life so small that you find satisfaction with beating down a man that’s just trying to put his life together?" He lowered his face to within an inch of Mike's face. Show less
“There you go getting all high and fuckin’ mighty with me, when you're nothing but a criminal and an addict. If you've cleaned yourself up, then what’s to worry? Now back the hell off and you watch yourself, or you’ll find yourself back behind bars quicker than you can pee in a cup, now is that... Show more“There you go getting all high and fuckin’ mighty with me, when you're nothing but a criminal and an addict. If you've cleaned yourself up, then what’s to worry? Now back the hell off and you watch yourself, or you’ll find yourself back behind bars quicker than you can pee in a cup, now is that what you want?” Damon stepped back a step. “Mike, you know I'm straight now. [just had a couple beers to celebrate my release. That’s all. I wouldn't have gotten the release papers if I still had a drug problem. You know this.” “Do I? Well, that’s my job Damon, to make sure you’re straight. So go pee in the goddamned cup before I have you written up." Damon tried negotiating. "Please, Mike, you know this is just a formality I’ve already proven myself to the state. I know I probably shouldn’t have had beer tonight, but I was celebrating. I swear to God that I haven‘t done anything else.” “Well, that’s for the test to determine. It seems a bit pre- mature for you to be celebrating. You may have conned the bureaucrat, but I’m not entirely convinced." “It was only beer. Beer isn't an illegal substance." Damon’s protests were becoming desperate. “Well, it might as well be for you. You know drinking is prohibited. You made your choice, so go on.” And with that he thrust the cup in Damon’s hand and refused to listen anymore. Damon went into the bathroom and slammed the door. He took the cup and unscrewed the cap, placing it on the side of the sink. He paced back and forth trying to think of what to do. He felt in his pockets for the kit he had Ben order for him to neu— tralize the traces of alcohol in his system, realizing in a panic that he had probably left it at Ben‘s house the last time he was there. Shit! Think, think, think! He leaned over the sink, look- ing at himself in the mirror. It was too good to be true, too god— damned much to hope for. Shit, now how much water was it to 46 Show less
