All written by me~

This Statement is Scientifically Accurate
All your life
every dead flake of skin
sloughed off the back of your hand
contained elements
forged in the belly
of a far off sun,
and you never
suspected
anything.

Life is a Mess
tossed off clothes
pile crumpled sheets
an unmade bed
disorganized
underwear drawer
an unmarked box
our baby pictures
mama’s prayer book
grandma’s worn novels
attracting dust
shelved up
christmas gifts
from years ago

-------------

And a little bit of flash (non)fiction, too:

I was attacked by dinosaurs
On a frigid winter morning we marched to the field in sweaters and bright summer shorts. While everyone chatters, my eyes lock with the huge red rubber kick-ball under our PE teacher’s arm, like the one the yard duties rescued because we kicked it too hard. The air is rich with angel tears and foreboding fog. Danger approaches.

Barreling down from the cotton sky, like bomber pilots on a suicide mission, sparrows swoop and slice through our troop, screaming by at a hundred miles an hour. Our teacher leads us through the haze and swarm of thrill-crazy birds like Dr. Alan Grant at the end of Jurassic Park. We know he’ll see us through. The girls giggle nervously and cover their heads while the boys make stupid jokes. I keep my head down.

We pick our teams and spread out on the sand lot. Standing in the outfield, I watch the birds tumbling from impossible heights, twirling and corkscrewing inches above the grass as if biding time for us to return.

Untitled
While we’re scaling the giant net at Shamu’s Happy Harbor he asks me where I’m going this fall. We’re starting 6th grade soon. The rope is thick and coarse. When I was little it gave me bruises.

Before I answer I pause to glance at a little girl across the web of ropes being helped up by her father, whose big shoes barely fit the foot holds. She’s so little her legs almost slip through the holes the way mine did years ago. She reminds me how big and scary it used to be when I was her age, when the tower at the top seemed like a castle tower and the slide down was Niagara Falls. Growing up is like going up in a plane. The world shrinks shrinks the higher you go.

I answer, “Black Mountain.” He tells me where he’s going, too. Out of breath we drag ourselves onto the first tower, thunder across the rope bridge and dive down the slide at the end, but by now I’ve forgotten the name of his new school. We’re laughing and joking and it feels like 2nd grade again.

I don’t know this is the last time we’ll see each other. The climbing net is still there, but it’s different now. I keep expecting to find him there.

Views: 7

Tags: flash fiction, poems, poetry

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Comment by Kyle Ziggy on November 29, 2009 at 5:42pm
Keep at it dear, very nice. :]

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