Some days, I'm lucky if I can form a single predicate. And, I can guarantee you, that this will be the last thing that I write tonight (10:15 p.m. on Wednesday, June 25, 2014) before I give up and resume this post on another night. Poetry is the only thing that really rockets out like a beer shit (a good, albeit gross, Bukowski reference).
And I'm back (two nights later).
Hemingway was also a dude who drained the marrow out of life. Tried new things. Lost a testicle in war. You know, the usual stuff...
I wouldn't suggest the latter, but if it floats your boat, I'm not gonna stop ya.
By the way, here is the info for my next feature that is coming up. I copied straight from the email that was blasted out to those that are on the readings mailing list.
"Farley’s Bookshop Poets Series welcomes poets Brian Fanelli and Ryan Torres for a reading and book signing Thursday, July 3, at 7 p.m. Farley’s is located at 44 South Main Street, New Hope, PA 18938. Phone 215-862-2452."
Boom! Hope to see you there. For now though.... poesy.
___________________________________________
The Liar
The cell
phone danced
and buzzed
like a dying
moth
on the
shellacked mahogany
before the
bald bastard retrieved it
and stuck it
to his dome.
“Yes? Okay.
Well, I
can’t.
I’m at the
store.
I’m sorry.
Yeah.
I’ll be home
soon.
They don’t
have what I need.”
He hung up.
“Kids,”
he said,
as he winked
at the waitress
and lifted
his scotch
from the
barstool across from me.
___________________________________________
Cheers!
~Torres
No comments:
Post a Comment