Poetry · Writing

1-800-555-2457

the static channel is louder today,

the musty recliner sinks deeper,

a socked foot blocks the left most side of the hushing screen,

the channel changes the static turns to picture

of a woman

selling pans

her golden curled hair flowed as she walked back and forth

just under was the number 18005552457

stainless steel and a non stick surface for a premium cooking experience

for three payments of 19.99 you can have this pan today

but if you act fast you can-

the static channel claimed her back into a loud shh,

the toe dissapears from the screen

a dial tone matches the static.

Poetry · Writing

bottom of the barrel

the bottom wasn’t the bottom

it never existed

it was just home,

the golden fish would tell stories

of a land bathed in light

kissed by soft air-

we huddled around her stories

of fulfilment and life,

we prayed to poseidon

to bring us;

bring us to the land of the free,

where goldy stayed-

away from the bottom.

the next day she was gone,

the we shuffled to an i

in silence.