“Memories, like the corners of my mind…”

Enough years have passed to go diggin’ for old memories. Here are a few in prose.

TEN MEN/”Happy Thoughts”

So dainty and empowering, her hand in the crook of my arm is like a declaration, “I am with him.” Good God! The fighting spirit of a whole army marches its way through every part of me. There is no fear or doubt, only the knowledge that she has chosen me, and that knowledge is ferocious, protective, big-chested, and full-bearded. It produces a satisfaction the desire of which is insatiable. That knowledge beckons forth every bit of determination, perseverance, and drive to give her whatever she wants and to ensure that no one or thing will ever taint, hinder, or destroy it. 

In that moment, my strength cannot be measured.

In that moment, I have lost myself.

In that moment, my last breath will be the only thing that could ever manage to wedge itself between me and her.

will you push my buggy

she held two boxes of rice in her hand and i could tell that not much of the weight of the world was felt as she debated. covered in the white glow of the grocery store she seemed right with the world. she did the shopping and i the pusher/moral support. we strolled the aisles and told the other what we wanted from love. most of what we said made no sense, but it felt good to say anything. on the turn to the breads she hit it, “i just want someone to push my buggy.” she was so right. someone to go to the store with, someone who will watch the movie i like even though she thinks its dumb, someone who knows when i’m just joking, someone who doesn’t let me quit, someone to pick flowers for, someone who will let me push her buggy. man…

pour yourself out

i feel within me a need to outpour. it is difficult to pour properly. it is easy to find improper ways. when done properly there is a return. when done wrongly there is only an emptying of self. God help me make the effort to pour right.


heavy extremities fade to a bliss of conversational mellow
meltdown, my friend.
come and take over with myself.
have you ever been over the moon?
it is yes.
the backside of the joint
where the stories are told in a haze of pollution
let us meltdown.
i’ll keep the area clear.

[“joint” in the last one, is not a reference to cannabis]
Have you any memories that need revisiting?
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2 Responses to “Memories, like the corners of my mind…”

  1. The Garcias says:

    Hot tubs in the winter
    Blankets in the grass
    Ben folds with friends
    A couch that was “sweet ass”

    Bowling on the Wii
    Settlers of catan
    Getting drunk on New years
    Bocci ball in hand

    Wedding days
    Wedding nights
    Move to Missouri?
    We just might

  2. Gina R. Morreale says:

    Anticipating our move to the Philippines…
    by W. H. Auden

    Leap Before You Look

    The sense of danger must not disappear:
    The way is certainly both short and steep,
    However gradual it looks from here;
    Look if you like, but you will have to leap.

    Tough-minded men get mushy in their sleep
    And break the by-laws any fool can keep;
    It is not the convention but the fear
    That has a tendency to disappear.

    The worried efforts of the busy heap,
    The dirt, the imprecision, and the beer
    Produce a few smart wisecracks every year;
    Laugh if you can, but you will have to leap.

    The clothes that are considered right to wear
    Will not be either sensible or cheap,
    So long as we consent to live like sheep
    And never mention those who disappear.

    Much can be said for social savoir-faire,
    But to rejoice when no one else is there
    Is even harder than it is to weep;
    No one is watching, but you have to leap.

    A solitude ten thousand fathoms deep
    Sustains the bed on which we lie, my dear;
    Although I love you, you will have to leap;
    Our dream of safety has to disappear.

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