When I swung forward, I leaned back so far that the trees were upside down. I enjoyed the giddy feeling in my stomach, but eventually the rope burned my hands and I got off the swing and swayed, slightly dizzy, on the ground. The rope was tied to a tree limb at the top andContinue reading “Freeport Drive”
Tag Archives: Non-fiction
Night Walks
I used to walk with the dog, but her broken foot won’t permit that any more. It feels selfish to be glad about that — no more stopping to sniff every ten feet, to circle and ruminate on the rotation of bowels until I finally lose patience and give the leash a tug. I justContinue reading “Night Walks”
Good Kid
I was a good kid. Never made any trouble. Mostly I sat with my forehead against the school bus window feeling the rumble of the engine transfer to my brain box. My friend Mike was more of a troublemaker. He got into an argument one morning and punched another kid on the arm. It wasContinue reading “Good Kid”
Oweanka
“Not yooouuu!” My daughter Kathryn sat on the toilet, her face red with frustration. She had been yelling “Mama” at the top of her lungs, but Mama hadn’t come. Papa had come instead, and this wasn’t acceptable to her 3-year-old mind. She tottered on the edge of the toilet, her pink cotton dress pulled up,Continue reading “Oweanka”
The Summit
We stopped on a face of sheer rock overlooking the valley. The late fall foliage scorched the base of Mount Monadnock, and a mist filled the gaps. A storm was coming, and the wind was beginning to show its teeth. It would be bitter cold at the top. We sat down to eat our lunchContinue reading “The Summit”
First Draft
“Here, read this. Forty-two words.” “Okay…” She reads. “I like it, but I don’t get where it says ‘explicably’.” “I meant ‘inexplicably.’” “Oh.” “Did you get that it’s at a hospital?” “Oh! No…” She reads again. “His leg is missing?” “Yeah.” “Ah!”
Davis, California
Eleven poems about my pitiful heartache. I looked up at the end to see no one. Somehow my reading had emptied the joint. I’m through with this city. Or it with me. Whichever. [A mirror cinquain, inspired by Yeah Write’s March poetry slam. I cheated a little by having three syllables on the first and lastContinue reading “Davis, California”
Authentic Italian
We’re waiting and joking anxiously outside the famous pizzeria. A meekly smiling man shuffles through, extending an upturned hand to each. A woman averts her nose. My hand stays in my pocket. Before leaving he frowns in genuine despair over his shoulder.
Alcohol
After dinner today my daughter remarked about how much alcohol I drink. “No offence,” she said. This elicited from me a dissertation on the health benefits of moderate alcohol consumption, which transitioned into a history of fermented beverages, upon which civilization as we know it depends. She immediately saw this as the elaborate rationalization itContinue reading “Alcohol”
Great News!
“Great news!” Salem sat down and leaned forward eagerly. He held a piece of paper in his hands. “We can pay you $1000 for your nice car!” He formed his mouth in the shape of a smile and set his frozen gaze on my wife.
David Hammond 