There is no breeze. Plants wilt and droop. The underside of dying leaves signal distress. There is no breeze. Flies collapse and sulk as panting dogs lie in the shade. The birds are silent. There is no breeze. Worms ooze
As the hot star rose in the east, I left my padded platform and layers of warm textiles, and headed for the room of body cleaning equipment. There I rubbed antibacterial suds on my body, put a fluoride-laced concoction on
When you need work done do you need man or machine? A machine gives you precision, speed, endurance. A Man can’t match that, but a Man can take pride, adjust, improvise. Depend on a machine until
You die, but the sun rises. You expire, and salmon run upstream. You give out, as another baby is born, You pass away, while it rains over the desert. You perish, as a wolf barks at the moon. You exit, and
I never really tried to excel. Too much work, too competitive, too difficult. But neither did I let myself fail. No fun losing, no fun being laughed at, no fun feeling inferior. So mediocre it was. It was safe, it
Everyone is going to die, the only question is how. At one time, I thought I might: Die of loneliness, but then I met the love of my life. Die of boredom, but then I won a trip to Vegas.
When you are born, time is nothing but bright and dark, day and night. A constant progression of on, then off. Then comes school and time becomes hour to hour, five days followed by two days, nine months of discipline,
I see him. Hoodlum. What’s with the ball cap on backwards, the low slung pants, hiding in that sweatshirt. I see him. Old fart. Shirt buttoned up to the top, belt missing a loop, white socks with sandals. I hate
My knee is worn, the grease is gone. Just mush. The cartilage now marshmallow fluff. Carpal tunnel. My fingers numb with a terrible tingle. Haven’t opened a jar, a door, a bottle of beer, in weeks. Plantar heal stops me
Sam has his bad points, and Sam has his good points. Sam sheds, is rambunctious, is a lot to handle, unruly, he farts, doesn’t listen, chews on everything, lives by his own rules. But Sam loves us. So Sam stays.
I used to hike on paths of dirt, mud, snow. Striding over rocks and slipping on ice. Now I walk on concrete, or maybe asphalt with cracks and curbs and potholes filled with water. In the forest I watched for
Went to the dealership to pickup my new car, a silver Bentley with leather seats. I’d have preferred a golden bronze with ostrich skin, but you can’t have everything. Went over to my neighbors to look at buying his pickup,
I get mugged every time I go to work. My brain is temporarily useless when my head snaps back, and I am rendered snotless. I show up and huge thugs run at me full speed, smash me until my eyes
There’s nothing I can do. I vote against them but they get re-elected. An incumbent could murder his mother and still not be rejected. I could go out and raise money and buy my candidate advertising. But then his opponent
The other day, at a traffic light, the light goes green. I’m turning right. But the car in front doesn’t move. The woman’s on the phone, on another planet, in another zone. Seconds tick by, and I hit my horn.