December 2024
John Dorroh
travelerjd59@gmail.com
travelerjd59@gmail.com
Bio Note: I recently had a death in the family. It took my breath away and left me reevaluating everything in my life...like which country I want to move to and who would have me.
I have already begun to process my grief through writing. Of course with writing. I don't know my family any longer. Who are these people? I recently had poems accepted with three journals, so someone notices that I still have a pulse at least for now.
I have already begun to process my grief through writing. Of course with writing. I don't know my family any longer. Who are these people? I recently had poems accepted with three journals, so someone notices that I still have a pulse at least for now.
Prelude to End Times: When Doves Die Unexpectedly
Dove on the front porch, a pocket knife stuck in its breast. this is not progress. unacceptable by civil standards. i mean, peace, olive branches, all that. hmm. it’s like a sign, something foreboding Baby dolls stretch their chubby, pink necks up toward a furious sky. no one knows where they planted the bombs. or when & how they will detonate. no one’s safe Yellow sweaters no longer blend in. They have a way of making their persons lose breath, stand out. like in a movie when a hero gets pumped in the chest with a Ginsu. There’s still enough oil to go around. no one has to control it all, monopolize abundance. stilettos turn their sharp heels to the ceiling. james bond scenario. no second takes.
A Novelist Speaks at Our Retreat
Eilza raises her well-accessorized hand to ask yet another question. I have to pee. She really needs to stop. There are overachievers in exclamation points in every room in every school. They have a different electricity from all of us. This time she wants to know if the novelist is a millionaire. How rude. It’s the last thing I wanted to know. The next time she asks what’s a typical day for writing. He tells her something she doesn’t expect: I walk for hours in the woods. There is chicken soup and artisan sandwiches for lunch but we have to wait for Eliza to catch her breath. I think about blond brownies. I want to know if he ever wants to kill himself and whether he’s thought about emancipation, whether he prays for best-sellers.
©2024 John Dorroh
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