MICKEY AWAITS (poem)

MICKEY AWAITS Right before I hung up the phone, I remember that there was a clap of thunder. The kind that makes you say, Holy fuck! Still, I was pissed. This little broad wasn't gonna play me anymore. As it was, the only thing that bound us at this point was this dumb trip we planned to Disney, compliments of my tax check. We were both looking forward to it and Christ, I'd say we needed it. Right before I slammed the phone down I told her we...

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IMPLOSION: ODE TO THE SANDS (poem)

For so many years it stood majestic, the swankiest joint in town. Gin-soaked men gambled here by night while their wives spent their unwon winnings by day. No one knew when to quit. But now, hard times are a knockin'. The big boys are in town now and they own the crowds; the gamblers; the tourists. Everyone. And it's about to fall. And sure, the carpet has long faded like oxidized paint on a Pinto; The glasses don't clink the same clank; the...

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WHO WERE THEY? (poem)

WHO WERE THEY? There they were, this couple, hobbling down the street. Vagrants, I’m guessing. They looked worn. Beat. Tired and Hungry. Sick. She, clutching on to him, her only hope. He, using a large stick of some sort to navigate the asphalt terrain for his woman. All they needed was a scrappy mutt in tow. Dirty clothes hanging limply from their frames; His hat torn, her curchiff looking like a dishrag; But where were they going? Methadone clinic? Soup...

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BABIES IN TRAINING (flash fiction)

The girlfriend wanted a baby.Her sister fucked everything up and had one of her own a few years back and ever since, I couldn't land a break.Rosie and I had talked about it once before and we came to the conclusion that winos like us didn't have babies - just puppies.Unbeatable Pets was the mall pet shop - the kind of place working stiffs like me got sucker-punched into buying overpriced pooches or as I'd like to call them, Babies In Training.'Summer'...

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THE BALLAD OF SAM SALES AND HIS CONVENTION CUPCAKE (flash fiction)

Back in Atlantic City for his annual convention, Sam looked forward to his yearly lapdance, massage and happy ending, a reward for enduring hours of boring sales panels.He was the Big Guy who sold parts to the Little Guys who sold parts.Third day in, he blew off the Tony Robbins wannabes in the convention center and had an incredible afternoon on the casino floor.At the craps table he struck up a "thing" with a delicious cupcake of a cocktail waitress...

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A BUTCHER'S BEEF (poem)

Recently I was at the bar with my trusty moleskin and pen and there was a woman across the way drinkin' God knows what and annoying everyone around her. There's always one... After observing her for a bit, I created this less-than-flattering backstory. My revenge for having to endure her dragon-like cackles when all I wanted was a little peace. Thus, this is what came out. A BUTCHER’S BEEF When she didn't come home he set out for her. She was...

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SHE DIDN'T OWN MY EYES (flash fiction)

While I was at the hotel bar waiting for her to come down (she's always running late), I spoke with Bob the barkeep.Another American, we chatted up the Yankees, our shitty economy and (if you can imagine such a thing) the merits of a good 'ol fashioned Milwaukee brew.It didn't take long to notice the vast amount of gorgeous locals frequenting the bar so I asked Bob if all native women were so beautiful."Hey man, I thought you were here on your honeymoon..."...

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THE LAST DRUNKEN PARTY (flash fiction)

When she came home from being out all night and God only knows where, I heard her flop off those godforsaken fuck-me pumps in that drunken stupor of hers downstairs.Barely being able to make it up the second floor, she stumbled into our bedroom and I saw her as I have so many times before in this unflattering state."Hey baby...," She slurred, smelling like a sloppy concoction of Miller Light, Aqua Net and sex.After I warned her to stay and that we'd...

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SHADOWBOX MEMORIES

Night after night, I stare at my father’s army shadowbox and hear the crashy high hats and brassy horns of Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw and the rest of the glorious big bands that saved him through World War II.And that sorta gets me thinking...If he were alive now, there’d be so many things I’d want to know like how to build a sun deck or change a friggin' tire. And what's the deal with all those Japanese half-brothers and sisters he always joked I...

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PENNY FOUNTAIN (flash fiction)

At the mall, there was a small child, a little girl who'd just discovered her first fountain.I watched her from the level above, as she laughed at the water, afraid of the spritely streams and excited at the same time.Her pop gave her a shiny penny and as she hurled it, 'Ol Abe Lincoln rolled out of sight and she cried that first cry of disappointment.Real disappointment.But the dad quickly soothed her with a nickel that he cupped into her small...

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COFFEE... JUICE... SODA... (poem)

Casinos are filled with all sorts of lively characters. Be it dealers, card sharps, hustlers or gamblers, this is an attempt to shed light on one of those lives. COFFEE... JUICE... SODA... Holding her tray up high, she struts by the lounge. Not the new one with the gold lame’ curtains but the one by the nickel slots and all the silver foxes pumping their IRAs into the board’s 401Ks. As she glides into their hazy, cigarette smoke, all purple and...

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SHE DIDN’T GET ME (poem)

Have you ever been to the airport and maybe saw a passionate couple in the throws of some juicy argument? While the voyeur in you wants to say "To Hell with the flight," you fake tying your shoe so you can see what these two wackjobs are screaming about... This prose poem is one of those instances. SHE DIDN’T GET ME She said why aren’t you coming? I told her that we’d be a mistake, a nightmare in fact. Pleading in the airport, at the gate, she...

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WHO GETS THE DOG? (flash fiction)

"Don't worry," I always had to say every time we ended one of our gut-wrenching arguments. "I'm the one you can blame if all this goes to shit." She poured me a drink and we got down to brass tacks. For some reason, whenever we had these "life" discussions, I always stared at her left tear that would eventually ease slowly down her cheek. What she probably never knew was that whatever semblance of a point she'd try to make always took a back seat...

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LIKE... DUH

Bestselling novelist and pop-culture writer Stephen King isn’t a fan of Twilight author Stephanie Meyer. King tells USA Weekend that while both Rowling and Meyer are “speaking directly to young people, The real difference is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can’t write worth a darn. She’s not very good.”Talk about stating the obvious. addthis_url=''; addthis_title=''; addthis_pub='avenutol...

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