jennifer and jeremiah

by nick nelson

jennifer lives in apartment 3-f. jeremiah lives in apartment 5-k. they have never met, or seen each other, except one time on the elevator, when neither took any notice of the other. jennifer cares. she wishes the world were a better place, that people everywhere could get along, and that every child on the planet could be guaranteed a decent life. she especially cares about climate change, and the rights of women. not that she does not care about racism, homophobia, trans rights, and colonialism. she believes in science, as long as it respects the ancient wisdom of indigenous peoples. her favorite book is the color purple, by alice walker. she does not have a favorite movie, and does not watch television. she puts in time as a volunteer at a homeless shelter three times a week. jeremiah only cares about himself, not that he takes particularly good care of himself. he believes that the world was a better place when it was not only controlled by straight white men, but when their supremacy was never questioned. he belonged to a fraternity in college, and still maintains contacts with many of his fraternity brothers. his favorite movie is the godfather, and his favorite tv show is tucker carlson tonight. he is an alcoholic, and also abuses drugs. his only joy and purpose in life derives from laughing at the suffering and humiliation of others, especially people of color. there are eight billion people in the world. four billion of them are jennifer. and four billion of them are jeremiah. there is really nothing else to say. br>

poem 103

by dog e relaford

hello i am a human trapped in a dog i am a lamppost trapped in a fog i am a mouse trapped in a cat do you have a problem with that? everything to itself is true no matter how many changes it goes through if it starts as an owl and ends as a frog when it rains it sleeps in a hollow log joe was born in a house on a windy hill he had a servant named little bill a cook named wilma and a chauffeur named brown but all he wanted was to live in town he sold the house to an arab prince and joe has not been heard from since wilma and brown and little bill all got jobs at the old mill the prince forgot about his purchase and ran away and joined the circus now the house is inhabited by raccoons and the wind blows through it and plays sad tunes no one remembers when they were born you can go to the store and buy a can of corn but you will never know what the scarecrow thought when the trap was sprung and the fox was caught

anonymous

by anonymous

no one invited him to dinner no one invited him to tea they laughed when he sat down at the piano but he was just like you and me they laughed when he stepped in a puddle they laughed when he slipped and fell they prayed for his soul on the lord’s day so maybe it was just as well nobody knows where he’s buried or if he was washed away in the rain he wasn’t the czar of russia and he wasn’t the king of spain he didn’t find a cure for cancer or even the common cold he had no sense of humor and he never played tennis or bowled he did not care for bright sunlight and he was also afraid of the dark he never did crossword puzzles or fed the squirrels in the park he was not much to look at and did not have anything to say but once in a while he hummed a sad tune as he went on his unmerry way

poem 107

by dog e relaford

billy right and betty wrong stood on the corner singing their song a monkey man with snow white skin threw a nickel in their cup of tin who led that rounder in? betty began to begin but billy stopped her with a glance like the king of france the monkey man went away to monkey another day an elephant man appeared wiping away a tear who will stop the rain? the elephant man said again he had said the same thing yesterday because that was just his way billy did not intend that their song would never end but betty just went with the flow singing songs of long ago everybody liked betty so much she had the common touch she touched the hearts of the lost and damned and had rings on all the fingers of her hands monkey men, elephant men, bankers with hearts of steel they all thought betty’s songs were real they listened enraptured as their hearts she captured as the sun went down a hush fell over the town and a strange thing occurred only betty’s voice was heard rising into the night sky like a slice of apple pie and they wished it would never end as old number 9 came around the bend

the sky

by horace p sternwall

the sky was empty. the king walked slowly down the road. nobody knew he was a king, because there was nobody left to know he was a king. he was already weary, although he had hardly walked a hundred miles. the crown was no longer heavy on his head, because he was not wearing it. he wondered idly where the crown was, and who was making what use of it. he wished he had an apple. he had always been quite fond of apples. nothing was left of his fine royal orchards. the king felt sad, and his feet were sore. if he could not have an apple, he would have settled for a kumquat. he wished a genie would appear, and grant him three wishes, or even one wish. how exhausting it was, no longer being a king, and walking down the road alone. he would have liked to turn to the left or right, but the road ran on perfectly straight. you see, this is a sad story, because once he had something - a kingdom - and now he had nothing. he walked along under the sky. which still contained no clouds. if he had never had anything, this would just be a plain unvarnished account of one of the millions of creatures in the earth walking upon it. and if he had never been a king, he would have been told to quit his bellyaching. and to remember all the poor souls who had trodden the dust before him. finally, a cloud appeared on the horizon. and the king wept at the unexpected sight. but the cloud disappeared as swiftly as it had arrived. i know you care deeply about the poor king’s plight. which, like yours and mine, will finally be resolved on judgment day.

in the woods

by genghis gilgamesh

there is an old woman who lives in the woods because people are bad when they should be good when she was young she gave them a chance they had feathers in their hats and pockets in their pants they had flowers in their hair and rings on their fingers they burned down the world but the smoke still lingers there was a young woman who ran down the road when judgment day came and the sun did explode the kings on their horses and the queens on their thrones are lost in the sand that flows over their bones the minstrels who sang and the jugglers who jugged lie in the highway crawled over by bugs you can call them unlucky good, indifferent, or bad but the chances they got were all that they had a snake crawls through the grass a bat sleeps in a cave they want to be free and they want to be saved there is an old woman who lives in the woods because people are bad when they should be good

i know you!

by genghis gilgamesh

conrad felt good about life. all his troubles were over. his life was empty of cares, and his brain was empty of distractions. all he needed was to get a little better organized, and he would be looking good. he might even give veronica a call. well, maybe not go quite so far as that. suddenly, as he was musing thusly, he saw harold approaching him. he had no particular desire to see or talk to harold, but he felt that crossing the street to avoid him was somehow out of keeping with his newfound equilibrium. now he saw that harold must have seen him, because harold was picking up his pace as he bore down on him. i know you! harold cried as he closed the gap. harold had the same foolish grin that had always challenged conrad’s sense of courtesy. i can’t believe i am meeting you here! harold exclaimed. i go out of doors almost every day, conrad replied politely. even when it rains. and i stay indoors almost every day, harold rejoindered. especially when it rains, ha ha! it is nice to see you, conrad said gamely. for any particular reason? harold retorted, raising his bushy eyebrows. no, really, it is always a pleasure to encounter you. i knew it! same old conrad, always mired in the muck of politeness and platitudes, ha, ha, ha! terrible thoughts gathered like storm clouds in the back of conrad’s brain. the euphoria of a few minutes ago was threatened by an undercurrent of primal abhorrence of harold and all the people in the world like him… the moment seemed frozen for an eternity. pull yourself together, conrad told himself. this, too, shall pass. he tried to think happy thoughts, but harold was saying something… something so terrible that conrad thought his brain would explode…

the perfect time

by fred flynn

even though it was inconvenient, victor decided to go for his daily walk. how was he to foresee the terrible consequences? it was nobody’s business, he thought, what he did with his free time. victor had never been noted for his sense of humor. franklin, his distinguished colleague, often mocked victor when he was not present to defend himself. greta, the secretary they had to share due to the new economy measures, did not care much for either victor or franklin. on this particular day, she knew that victor had gone for his afternoon walk, but she did not know the whereabouts of franklin. greta decided to forgo her usual trip to the company cafeteria, and use the time to write a long letter to her friend florence, who had married a chemist and moved to knoxville tennessee. maybe everything does not happen for a reason, but some things do. greta had just begun her letter to florence when the red light on her desk flashed on. this indicated something very important - something so important that either victor or franklin had to be notified at once. with a sigh, greta pressed the intercom button, half expecting that she would hear the voice of the director himself. instead a strange voice said - is this the perfect time? the perfect time for what, sir? greta replied uncertainly. this is just what i need, she thought. whom am i speaking to? the strange voice asked. i am the secretary for mister victor and doctor franklin, sir. did you wish to contact ether of them? am i to understand, then, that this is not the perfect time? the voice asked sharply. greta was now seriously perplexed, as well as terminally annoyed. i do not understand you, sir, she repeated, the perfect time for what? the time for everything to come together. the time for every what to come together? greta asked gamely. listen, the caller said in a more judicious tone, can you not hear it? the only thing i hear is your voice, greta replied petulantly. then all is lost, lost, lost forever. were you trying to reach mister victor or professor franklin? do you know whom you are trying to reach? yes, my dear lady, i know exactly whom i was trying... trying... trying... but it is too late...

down the road

by nick nelson

that is the umpteenth time you have said that. i have a vision, i have to proclaim it. do you have to proclaim it forever? i regret that it seems to bother you so much. purvis got up. he looked down the road. i can’t listen to you any more, he announced. well, excuse me, mullins replied. i’ll be on my way. mullins watched purvis disappear down the empty highway. these highways are always empty, mullins reflected. you wonder how anybody ever gets anywhere. i should have done this a long time ago, purvis reflected, as his feet rhythmically slapped the road. the road was quiet, and did not respond to his thoughts. purvis had always been the class clown. mullins was more serious, and aspired to be taken seriously as an oracle. it had always been that way. they were both in love with a girl named millie brown. millie brown met a man named dave dexter. dave dexter had friends in high places. he did not rub elbows with clowns or oracles, no matter how humorous or inscrutable they might have been. when millie married dave dexter, purvis and mullins left town. neither of them could forget millie. they gave up all hope. no destiny called them. they began to rub each other the wrong way.

the cabin

by horace p sternwall

gunther wondered if gaspard could be serious. he had been taken in by gaspard’s cleverness before. perhaps, gunther thought desperately, it was too early to make a judgment just yet. it had taken them five days to reach the cabin on the mountainside. gaspard had assured gunther that lillian would be waiting for them at the cabin. but there was no sign of her. we are actually a bit early ourselves, gaspard had breezily assured gunther. out on the mountainside a dog - or a wolf? - howled. duplicitous as gaspard had always been, nothing had prepared gunther for this. we may as well begin unpacking the supplies, gaspard announced. how gunther wished he had heeded jules’s warning! i feel a bit unwell, gunther murmured. just sit down then, gaspard replied unconcernedly. i will begin the unpacking. with a yawn, gunther collapsed into a large comfortable looking chair in front of the unlit fireplace. in a few seconds, he began to fall asleep. all the excitement of the last few days has taken its toll, he thought hazily. then - he heard the sound of the car’s engine starting up! he tried to heave himself up out of the large comfortable looking chair. but he could not do it on the first try and fell back, knocking the wind out of himself. suddenly he knew - he saw the whole thing! when he finally managed to get up and get to the door, gaspard and the car were gone! gunther staggered outside into the desolate night. gaspard had tricked him yet again! he was alone on the mountain - with no car, no food - and no lillian! he wondered helplessly if there were any supplies or firewood in the cabin. but he already knew … knew everything…

poem 97

by dog e relaford

dennis took a chance and asked judy to dance she turned him down so he left town he had forty dollars to his name and was bad at life’s game no use to holler or shout the money quickly ran out he found no enjoyment in seeking employment and had no solution to onrushing destitution he had read a lot of comics and watched tv a lot he decided to become a hit man at least give it a shot he approached perfect strangers on the cold city street and offered them his services but his gaze they did not meet they rudely pushed on past him as if they heard him not being a paid assassin was not as easy as he thought despair’s arms closed around him but he gave it one last try and approached an elderly gentleman with a twinkle in his eye kind sir, you look too happy to be quite real, i fear is there no one on this wretched earth that you would like to have disappear? now that you mention it the gentleman replied though i am quite respectable i have nothing to hide when i was a lad i was disrespectfully treated by a man in a top hat our words grew heated i told him i would track him down if it was the last thing i did but all these passing decades from me he has been hid i have oft forgotten him and from honor and duty swerved but if you could track him down and give him what he deserves i would be most grateful and reward you handsomely as from a weighty burden you would set me free i gladly accept your commission dennis replied in a single breath but, sir, i need a small advance or else i will starve to death the elderly gentleman shook his head and emitted a mighty chuckle he wore a hat of royal blue with a shiny silver buckle you ragged rascals are all the same and think the world owes you a living i do not like your attitude and nothing to you will i be giving with that the gentleman disappeared with a final shake of his head the lights went out along the street and the darkness of night spread dennis sat on the sidewalk feeling very old his brain was in a turmoil but his feet and hands were cold