the cat was utterly
uninterested
and downright
bored
with him reading
mediocre poems
by her side
"You don't like this one?" he asked
"It's about nature
and birds
flying and... and... How good does
it have to be for you
to like it? I'm only ten, I haven't
lived long enough to
write poems of grief
and depravity like my father. But you
know, I'm actually aiming to become
better than him. I aim to be
a more
respected poet. What, you don't think
I'll be able to?
You think I'm just another
deluded fool? I'll show you!"
The cat stood
and stretched raising her tail
"Calm down, kid. First of all,
your daddy was no
poet. Just some drunk who spoke of
demons as he passed out
in bars. And you, you're not ten, okay?
You're just ten days
clean of meds."
"You think I should
end myself?" he asked
The cat waved a paw
at that. "Nah, just go on with the
next poem. I'll be listening
but please don't expect any
praise. It's not in my nature to
offer it, okay?"
"But... you think I'll be a great
poet one day?"
The cat closed her
eyes and offered no reply
but that handle was made for his hand hand – handle handle – hand the fingers would close around it to never let go It had to have flesh around it at all times But the blade… the blade was still naked. He couldn’t let the blade naked It wasn’t fair “So that’s why you […]
Pink
pink would be the right choice
because the doctor said it will be a girl
He would paint the room pink and await
her coming into the world
What a blessing
How fortunate he felt
His back and sides were tingling with
happiness
He came out of the store and a
homeless woman came his way
and he was quick to say
“Sorry, no spare change right now. I spent
all I had on paint.”
“That’s all right,” said the woman. “I don’t want
your money. Actually, I was hoping you
could give me some
of your paint.”
“My paint?”
“Yeah.” She held a tin can to him
“Um, all right,” he said and opened the
can of paint and poured some into the woman’s
can. “But what do you need paint for?”
She watched him
Put the tin can to her lips
and drank the paint
“Plan Z,” she said
He wanted to say something in protest
but couldn’t even gasp
when he noticed her swollen belly
He walked away and got into the car
and drove home
and just wasn’t as eager to paint that room
anymore
At 22:00 she would come out looking
for him
Would call out his name
and eventually find him by the
sandbox or the slide
and would dust him off a bit
and take him home
and feed him
As she’d put him to bed
she’d kiss his face, sometimes
his mouth
and he’d ask, “Why did you do that?”
and she’d reply, “I don’t know.
But did you like it?”
And he’d either nod or say
yes, knowing that it’ll make her smile
and then she’d cuddle with him
until he’d fall asleep
and whisper in his ear that she always
wanted to have a little boy
just like him
and that he was making her unbelievably
happy just by existing in the same
room with her
She was the best neighbor he could
have dreamed of
She gave him all the attention
his mother gave to her bottles and
her guy friends
and everyone was very happy
Girls with glasses are cute but that's only what I think and she doesn't agree so she's wearing contact lens and she's losing them more often than not and the house becomes a minefield and we have the thread lightly it's just a small apartment it shouldn't be that hard to find them or the one that got lost when only one got lost she would use the other and cover her other eye and look around and point things and tell me to turn them over so she could take a better look and I would sometimes say "I told you" but I no longer do it I look under the cover and the pillows and the sheets and the carpet in shoes, under them pockets, corners, folds sink, toilet, tub one day she covers her free eye and uses the other one to look at her phone "Really…
