The oak’s limbs are frostbitten.
Icy moonlight dances between them and a glistening mosaic pirouette commences.
Its aching branches sparkling terribly as the
willow watches from afar,
weeping.
Author: Ergo, the Ogre
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Night Shift
“Crap!” She slammed the phone down.
The sitter cancelled again; right before Louise’s shift.
The baby usually slept through the night…
Louise grabbed her keys and tip-toed out,
as her forgotten cigarette smoldered.
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To Happen
It’s no use pretending that it didn’t happen.
And it will keep on happening.
Scotch crazy and martini wild
days of secret tears and bad imagination.
Acid-washed nights in torn memories–faded
blue jeans frayed and dragging the street like the
Fear and hopeless
pain in my soul’s heart.
I want you back. Please try. C’mon.
For me?
The gray marble slab tells the world
that it’s over―and been over for two full
moons. You’re gone, it says.
I say no.
Not just no, but Hell no.
I want us
To happen again.
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Bonnie’s Heart
This week’s prompt at 100wcgu is …but even when I listened carefully…
***
Over time and to the lucky ones, animal-friends and their humans can become acutely aware of one another’s subtleties. A curious twitch of her tail, a breathy purr a nano-octave higher, or even my teary sigh never goes undetected and unattended.
One night before I fell asleep, Bonnie touched my cheek with her paw and gazed into my eyes.
It was an unusual look: a sad, meaningfully serene, almost apologetic look.
I thought she was just being cute, so I smiled and stroked her cheek until she fell asleep.
Even though I listened carefully—
always—
always, to her heart
my heart failed to hear Bonnie’s goodbye.
Bonnie 1991-2001 Share this:
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The Visitors
This week’s prompts at Grammar Ghoul Press are the word “pterodactyl” and the sculpture below: ‘Torso in Metal from The Rock Drill’ by Sir Jacob Epstein.
Man, I hate Saturdays: the worst day of the week. Why, you ask? It’s the visitors. You people don’t know what it’s like; sitting her immobilized while idiots stroll by making stupid comments, laughing. Hah! If they only knew.
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“Hmmm. I think it looks like Darth Vader with no legs and a dislocated neck.”
OMG! If I hear that one more time…
“It’s so weird! Gives me the creeps.”
Yeah? Have you looked in the mirror lately, Sweetheart?
“Look at its left arm! Why is it like that?”
O ye of little class…making fun of other’s birth defects. Apparently evolution ‘missed a spot.’
“Daddy? What’s that thing?”
Kids. You gotta love ’em.
“Uh. Well son, let’s read about it and find out…”
This ought to be good.
“Let’s see. It says here, that it’s…
“…the armed, sinister figure of today and tomorrow. No humanity, only the terrible Frankenstein’s monster we have made ourselves into… “
Hooked on Phonics® worked for Dad!
“Hey, neato! Does that mean I’m gonna grow up to be a monster?”
Well, Dad? Will he?
The father’s brow furrowed as he considered how to answer Jake’s question.
“Son, that’s entirely up to you…and your generation.”
Indeed.
“Huh?” Jake squinted and scratched his protruding belly.
“Nothing, Son. Ready to check out the pterodactyl exhibit?”
“Nuh-uh.” Jake shook his head. “I wanna stay here an’ learn how to be a monster like him.”
Is that not precious? There’s really nothing to it, kid. Just be yourself and let it happen.
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Ergo, the Ogre 