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Smiling broadly from the bottom step from yellow-and-black command ship my forty-two pound, thirty-seven inch Neil Armstrong plops dustily down Successful touchdown, Tranquility base. Home, The Eagle has landed. Perfect timing; his silver-and-black supply case is depleted, as is he. Time to replenish, explore local terrain, relax, recount the day’s adventure Pausing, he then runs… Read more
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cardboard Tupperware crowds my attic keeping my soul preserved if not fresh rows, stacks of oddly square bowls repositories of then; lost loves, past successes other leftovers sometimes leftovers trump a fresh lunch filling rejuvenation found amidst the smell musty brown wood pulp – Mark Lucker Read more
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local coffee place sipping my solitary cup checking email next table over a group of men older than I, age gap not of grandfather-grandson severity the six zealously swap tales of doctor visits with enthusiasm once reserved for one-night stands summer romances familiar names swirl through their regaling conversation; Alzheimer’s, Chron’s, Cirrhosis taking the places… Read more
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I hate it when somebody states they are ‘making concessions’ to middle age I find mid-life to be a wonderful carnival the only concessions those to be purchased to quench a thirst sate a hunger I stroll the middle age midway impervious to the shill’s siren-call of con-men barkers offering relief enhancement and release me,… Read more
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We were a long time ago years? decades? lifetimes? carbon dating? time is filled in a long forgotten coloring book half the pictures never finished bold, black-line outlines dated, quaint stumbled across by accident you flip through remembering all the scenes beach, park, ball, puppy love ? first few pages carefully colored giving way to… Read more
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Flights of fancy via wings of balsa when an extra nickel added a propeller we took wing on wind-looping imagination gliding sometimes to gentle landings more often crashing with aplomb-tinged disappointment when repairs were beyond the pale Images silently soaring, frozen in in time and flight still life, real life in balsa and backyard –… Read more
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A day at the beach we have been here before; I am trying to be Burt Lancaster as you hesitate to play Deborah Kerr with self-conscious protestations I have heard many times But today the kids are not with us, the friends who we accompany sit engrossed in their sun-worshipping, paperbacks, inflatable-floating oblivious to us… Read more
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“I would slay a dragon for you!” said he from out of the blue his lilting voice a hopeful spontaneous, off-hand musing had him hoping for more as she looked up from her paperback mystery romance “There are no dragons” she stated flatly, perplexed as he quietly sighed, continued reading yesterday’s newspaper Read more
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“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” “I do.” “You may now kiss the bride. Liar.” Read more
