warning! these true stories are based on loose lips, unshaved characters scripture translated from crop circles, fast food menus and all the stuff stuck to the bottom of my shoe true story every time i buy new shoes i have to learn to walk again giggle and gimbal, stumble over curbs, each foot a conjoined stranger the fun never ends until it ends flatfooted again true story i have no use for politicians, but that’s not true sometimes i run out of toilet paper true story i’m not running for mayor of truthtown, i’m not managing a health food store, i don’t sleep inside a fortune cookie true story i see two moons tonight one in the sky and one in the lake and drunk enough to swim for it true story a man and a woman holding hands in a deli pretending they’re not going to devour each other true story i wrote a dozen emails, all in my head, which has no wi-fi so you probably didn’t get them true story i took the last trash bag from the box, and put the box in the bag true story i only sleep in pictures of beds final warning all these warnings may be hazardous to the osmosis of spontaneous true story true story, all these warnings were translated from chinese toaster oven safety labels with an industry standard garage sale ouija board: (caution plug securely or power cord be detached in set else crisscross wires fix with fork and feel emergency call god immediately, also, avoid soft drinks) but let us not be warned let immortal monkey gods deliver us onto random doorsteps let us midnight snack a greasy half-burnt sunset last supper of summer let us creature around in secret vehicles under a suicide of blue sky let us go all weather, all together and forget to do our laundry
this poem was published in “edge of humanity magazine” 4/18/23
4 thoughts on “these are true stories”
Holy crap this is fantastic. These last two have been some of your recent best, IMHO.
Loved it… and was great to listen to the reading as well! Congratulations on getting it published!
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thank you, i’m glad you enjoyed it
“True story” invokes flash fiction, Moby-Dick in two sentences, no more, and this poems celebrates the genre with a toast and nod to the gods who beg ’em.