100 Words

[annaswirls]

cranky old man teaches me a lesson

I swear she was only outside ten minutes when she saw me in the kitchen and realized we were occupying different physical spaces. She panicked.

The knock.

Howdy neighbor, so you gonna let that damn dog bark all day?

Oh, I am sorry, Sir, has she been barking all day?

How am I supposed to know, I just got home!

Guess he was looking into the possibility of the all day barking, I was looking into the part of the day for which I could somehow be held responsible in a court of law.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Missing you, full of turkey, slightly feverish, coughing and quite tired

.....

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

The good mother

She reads the papers, watches CNN, absorbs the atmosphere of dread until she believes that there’s no escaping the approaching doom.
As always, the extended family is expected to gather for Thanksgiving dinner, which falls on November 23rd, and she’ll begin to plan the meal in good time as usual. She’ll find the biggest turkey, seek out perfect vegetables, make cranberry sauce from scratch and get out the best dishes, much as she has every year for decades. She has made the shoofly pies her children love weeks ago.
This year’s special; she added a new ingredient to each dish, rat poison. Someone has to save them all from Armageddon.

 

[clutching_calliope]

One-Sided Conversations

Let’s talk about you…I think you’re work is interesting…Yes, I do…Really…And who is that?...She’s pretty?...Of course, just graduated…I’ve heard of that position…Oh. Guess I was thinking about something else…She doesn’t bring you coffee, or take your calls?...Oh. Women’s lib? How do like that?...Ah….Feisty? Do you think that is an appropriate word? You might get in trouble for saying that…Maybe she’s not the person you’re going to get into trouble with…I don’t want to talk about it…No, I’m not upset…Yeah, I gotta go…Stuff to do people to see…No, I’m not going out…I’m doing the laundry, you know, laundry? Your stupid laundry!

 

[Tzara]

Insomnia Poems

When I wake, it is still dark. I hear the soft buzz of rain, the sluice of water in the spout. I have dreamt again, dreams that both delight me and disturb me. These are dreams of you.

The season has finally changed. The water from the tap is cold, as is the floor to my bare feet. The stairs are tricky in the dark, but I carefully descend, each step firm upon a tread. In the armchair near the window, washed in dim light from the street, I take out pen and notebook and begin to write a poem.

 

[clutching_calliope]

When It's Not Good But It's Done

1700 ain’t so bad. In the course of a day, how many do you speak? How many times do you scrawl your initials, I received this, UPS sent that, the Day and Ross delivery man is an ass, all of this either written or a running story inside your head.

Take it all in, spit it back out. It doesn’t have to be coherent, it doesn’t have to be anything but gibberish, gobbledy gook, jabberwocky, and juice. Forget that, pulp fiction is what we’re looking for.

Like this! See, if I can anyone can. 100 down. Repeat this 17 times.

 

[Tzara]

Transference

There was a poet who was in love with another poet. They had never met. The first poet, a man, was talented (or so his writer friends said) but had never been published. Not yet good enough, he said if asked. The other poet, a woman, had published several books and won prestigious awards.

Over time, the male poet wrote less and less, and what poems he did write became ever more terse in expression. One day he simply stopped and wrote no more.

He spread the other poet's books upon his bed and would caress them as he slept.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

I have a neighbor, I can't identify him, I just know he's male and has this wonderful laugh. He's out there now chatting with another local. What ever they're talking about is causing gales of that rich, rolling laughter and I'm sitting in the window at my computer grinning like a Chevy radiator. It's made me feel happy, Alright, so I'm easily entertained.

 

[clutching_calliope]

All the Things You Need

List all the things you need.

Antibacterial lotion, wipes, soap, more paper, more pens, yes, Bic pens only, the cheese that has the smiling cow.

I like that cow, too. He looks terribly happy.

No, being happy is not a terrible thing.

Ok, I’ll stop smiling. I’ve stopped. Really. Yes, I have. I better not tell you about this funny thing that happened at work today, then. You’re going to laugh. This man vomited all over that boss I don’t like.

Oh. I shouldn’t have said vomit, I know. Okay, go wash. I’ll wait.

Yes, I checked the lock. Yes.

 

[Sara Crewe]

Sometimes who and what don't matter

Have you ever?
No.
Never?
No way.
Why not?
Because it’s wrong.
Why is it wrong?
It just is.
But why?
Because it’s not right.
You can’t really know that till you try it.
You sound like my mother trying to coax me into eating vegetables.
There are similarities.
Can we stop talking about this?
Sure. Sorry.
Thank you.

Windshield wipers clean up the glass and fill the silence.

But it’s just so much fun. Why not try it once?
Because I don’t want to.
Why?
Pause
So you think the rain is going to stop?
Pause
No. I don’t.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Days That Look the Same

What do you remember of an ordinary day? A normal day, any day, not a holiday, today. Today, I was disappointed, angry, hungry, sad, amused, curious, tired, late, rushed, entertained, listened to, ignored, laughed at, fed.

I was supposed to be paid, but direct deposit technology has relocated my cheque to Cocolalla, Idaho.

I may move. I looked at a house I cannot afford without giving up my dream of writing for a living.

I helped a woman find a book on AIDS. I touched her arm in sympathy. She smiled at me. This is what I will remember today.

 

[tungtied2u]

What do you remember of an ordinary day?

I live in the mountains. This time of year, tourists flock to our area to take in the beauty of the leaves as they put on their annual coats of many colors....it's one of the reasons I love it here....and this is peak color week.

Unfortunately I have been so busy at work, and consumed by personal issues to the point it took someone pointing it out to me yesterday, for me to take the time to remove my sunglasses and really take in the radiant colors.

I nearly missed it...

 

[clutching_calliope]

Rare Issue, Collector's Mint

Further adventures of Mars, God of War and former caped avenger:

In this episode, number #415 in the “Mars at Work series”, Mars is seen verbally fighting with the perilous villain, Af, forked-tongue mother of two, samosa baker, and armed with dreaded ‘Power of the Supervisor Position.’ He arms himself with good deeds he has done for co-rebels against “The Man” (none), and slathers himself with skewed versions of his own innocence, hard work, contributions, and Obsession cologne. Will Mars reign supreme, or will the evil Af achieve putting the cursed black mark in his file?

Stay tuned, faithful readers.

 

[annaswirls]

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

SIX LITTLE THINGS (www.sixbrickspress.com) is a quarterly online literary
magazine devoted to an underappreciated genre, the short prose thing. Some call
them "prose poems," others "short short stories," and you may feel free to
argue amongst yourselves all you'd like, but I am happy calling them very nice
paragraphs and recommending a maximum count of 250 words.

Every issue of Six Little Things contains six original works, each written by
a different writer and each responding to a previously announced theme or
phrase. Issue #4, "Hooray for Reality," is currently online, and features writing
by Michelle Billings, Don Campbell, Jessica Del Balzo, Jason Fraley, Rose
Gorman, and Theodore Worozbyt, and collage artwork by Sean Neary.

Submissions are currently open for issues number five (theme: "Tiny Tiny
Objects": Deadline November 30th) and six (theme: "Mortal Enemies": Deadline
February 28th). Authors submitting work are agreeing to one-time reproduction as
part of an issue of Six Little Things and the continuing availability of their
work as archived in the context of that original issue. Issues will be archived
indefinitely.

Please direct submissions and inquiries to Bard Cole at the email address:
editor(at)sixbrickspress.com (replace (at) with @).

Each issue also spotlights a visual series as well. Visual artists are
encouraged to inquire about the magazine's needs.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Versatile

goo ma bell stair rubber running running super hooray! love loving doe hug pet dog grass doo shorts sunny slide pool splash butterfly bird cloud sky no hot touch stop away listen don’t can’t won’t help help should shut ass shit dumb hate point cigarette drink black brown blue green bruise nose blood scab welt belt punch punch kick knife tattoo pierce moody signs doors locks mud work check money car house bill bill sex diapers aspirin glasses shout cry slam more weight chains split ouch come weekends recital wrinkle tinkle diaper forget hunch shuffle slobber teeth goo ma end

 

[MissBri]

 

[denis hale]

i went over a hunny; BAD dh!; mama spank!~... ;

A Butt Plug In The Crackerjacks Box

Jehovah Boy stood on my porch, shivering in his short sleeves. It was early morning—first Monday in November. I could see Jehovah Boy's breath. Piles of hoar frost were spattered all over my sun-swashed lawn.

“Anyway,” the kid said, “here’s some literature, and just remember that Jesus the Redeemer loves you… That’s the good news.”

I shook Jehovah Boy’s hand, and bid him adieu.

* *

Now there was a squirrel, going off, in a nearby Poplar tree.

I hadn’t noticed, until that moment, how a madly-chattering squirrel sounds just exactly like a 1983 Oldsmobile Omega with a bad starter, and some poor dude is already late for a job he hates but can't afford to quit--and he won’t accept the fact that the Olds engine is never going to turn over again. Ever.

“You go!” I told Squirrel. “Jehovah done gimme the Good News, now you bring on the Bad.”

Back inside the house, I tore the Watchtower pamphlets into bite-sized strips, and added a half-loaf of stale sourdough bread upon which I’d nearly choked to death, the day before—all as largesse for that abject proselytizer holding forth from the apogee of my Poplar tree.

 

[RhymeFairy]

Last week she was in critical condition. Her heart was making her pass out, whenever ... wherever. A call went out to all. We will probably put a stop to Thanksgiving. All were overjoyed with this decision, as long as she was healthy.

Two days later. She is frantic! She wants Thanksgiving, spare no expense. She wants to see the grandchildren, great and great-great ones too. Bring'm all, pronto!!

Upon arrival a frail lil red head greets us at the door. White knuckled, raspy voice wishing us love and so much happiness. Throughout the evening I watched as every arrival brought more color, energized and infused this Fairy's grandmother with such happiness.

At the end of the evening she ask us to meet in the living room. Gathered around, thinking a big announcement was coming, we were hypnotized as she began to sing

... over 20 minutes later she ended in silence. We were so amazed and touched. She had not sung to us since grandfathers passing six years ago. She then dismissed us all with, just wait till Christmas ...





( I know I went over. Sometimes we have to know the whole story )

 

[clutching_calliope]

Traffic Thoughts in December

There is a satisfaction in wrapping gifts. Correction, in being done. I thumb my nose at the neatly wrapped and bowed outcome of days spent in contemplation over the perfect gift, hours spent in traffic, searching places that may have had the gift yesterday but not today, sorry, we sold out of that about one hour ago.

Everywhere is crowded, the library is quiet. I haven’t seen the handsome Polish librarian in weeks. I wonder if he went overseas, if he owns an IKEA bed. He always looks uncomfortable, so maybe a futon?

How do you wrap a sexual overture?

 

[clutching_calliope]

Personal ad, 10 year difference

SWF looking for man that enjoys sparkling conversation, long, deep kissing while on hammocks or beanbag cushions, or both, or neither. One that believes in independent thought and co-dependant living. No dogs, cats, hamsters, snakes, or tarantulas, please. Geckos, ok. The j-o-b is A1 (steak optional). Adventuresome, not thrill seeker wanted. Must be able to match tastes around beloved red leather chair. Spanking, a plus.

MWF not looking for anything but sleep and dependable baby-sitter. Housekeeping is a bonus, keeping house clean for more than 3 hours, a godsend. Cleaning kitty litter, doggy doo in yard, a plus. Bathing, optional.

 

[clutching_calliope]

Vi on Lunchbreak

At 4 foot eleven, 60 years old, she was no one’s idea of a sex kitten. Her eyes had begun to swim in pink and yellow runniness and her back arched opposite to passion. The thing was, she always had a giant, burnt-blackened, phallic-looking sausage for her lunch. Every day.

She’d put it on a smallish white plate, with perhaps a few potatoes, and reheat it in the microwave so that the room smelled of her carnal, pleasure meat. I couldn’t watch her eating it without picturing her with a whip in one hand and ostrich feathers in her hair.

 

[vampiredust]

Funny thing. I saw a guy on the bus who looked exactly like a guy I once knew from school, he even acted in the same way - nervous, twitching, using his legs as drums. He looked pretty upset and anxious. Not sure what I could have said to him: excuse me, are you...?

 

[lipsxsexy]

poems are so sexy.

 

[tungtied2u]

proud peaks
rolling hills
fertile valley
ready to plow

nature's bounty
blessed body
beckons to me
come forth now

from my slumber
I awaken
striding forward
to explore

urgent entry
through the portal
tight embrace
touch the core

 

[FifthFlower]

Flames

Beth noticed Sally walking up the drive arguing with her man again. She also saw that the fire she started for her party needed fuel.

To fix the fire, she squatted, spread her knees, raised her skirt, and added wood until she heard Sally gasp.

As Beth got up to welcome them, Sally stared like a betrayed lover with a claim to establish on her man whose arm she was clutching, and Beth enjoyed the surprised look still in his eyes. Both women, defiant and fierce, knew there was nothing he did not see while Beth sat stoking the flames.