reminiscing
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I long for the sound of an old wooden screen door slamming oak frame, wire mesh heavy, with a new spring so the initial slam triggers recoil – residual wood WHAP! Thump! clunk. Nothing to stop an old wooden screen door save gravity those doors were rapt percussion a backbeat to youthful adventure The one Read more
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On family trips when I was eight, nine plastic, primary-color cowboys, Indians, soldiers, animals fought and romped in a synthetic, nappy, dark-blue rear-window battlefield meadow Other times, it was a fuzzy ledge on which to lean, and watch the road fading, while my mother half-jokingly admonished me to turn around, see where I was going, Read more
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Eight-by-ten, glossy Women’s gowns a snowy hue men’s jackets polar-colored pants black, everything else radiant shades of grays drearily brilliant tones off-black, dark-white vibrant portrait in celluloid Twelve adults, a young boy bouffants and buzz cuts, ogling camera, mischievously dead serious, mindfully aware playful magnitude of the day fighting off hangovers practicing feigned solemnity due Read more
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At age seven I nearly killed the pubescent birch tree anchoring our Minneapolis backyard stripping it of all its bark, roots to four feet up – the physical limits of my fanciful reach As Mrs. Kime’s most intrepid first-grader I planned to build a birch bark canoe, ala the Chippewa we were studying, but my Read more
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summer comes to a close autumnal breezes waft rustling memories of those days when the close of summer had more definitive endings sun-drenched days of youthful frolic, innocent play, done swimming, playing with frogs in holes dug on sandy beaches at grandparent’s homes; ‘the lake’ summer Xanadus of childhood one year, scenic backdrops for advancing Read more
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walking old neighborhood streets first time in forty years strolling the paper route I once sped through on bike chucking news, sports, imaginary touchdown passes blithe in my accuracy – papers always landing where intended most of the time remembering homes, faces cantankerous folks the best tippers comforting offers of lemonade, hot cocoa incessantly yapping Read more
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Eight-by-ten, glossy women’s gowns a snowy hue men’s jackets polar-colored pants black, everything else radiant shades of grays drearily brilliant tones off-black, dark-white vibrant portrait in celluloid Twelve adults, a young boy bouffants and buzz cuts, ogling camera, mischievously dead serious, mindfully aware playful magnitude of the day fighting off hangovers practicing feigned solemnity due Read more
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“…and there’s nothin’ short of dyin’ that’s half as lonesome as the sound of a sleepin’ city sidewalk and Sunday mornin’, comin’ down…” – Kris Kristoffferson There is no respite from the escape the night before, sketchy adrenaline rush of getting there, staying there, leaving behind whatever it was trying to find whatever it is Read more
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Happily-ever-after mythology prefaces every sequel continuing character-driven sagas story arc only tacking an index onto volume one, three, sixteen in a set having read this scene repeatedly life movies annotated script writing, rewriting books they were based on playing déjà vu-all-over-again never more than countless times here-we-go-again monotony of changing times changing directors same cast Read more
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Loft apartment, late Saturday afternoon spontaneity interrupted by shrill, continual oven timer buzz “Pizzas done” says she “But I’m not” replies he not-rhythmic, static range-buzzer drone not disrupting tempo of early life-together moral they learned how easily heat, afterglow can turn three-dollar frozen pizza to charcoal – Mark L. Lucker © 2015 http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd Read more
Ponderable polemics, poetic 