Fowzie and Letz

Fowzie and Letz


I went for a walk with my friend Fowzie the Ant. Fowzie was feeling down. I asked why. Fowzie told me that he had just found out that his entire family was devoured by Letz the Anteater. I said that I was sorry for his loss.

A few moments later we came upon Letz the Anteater. Fowzie ran up to Letz and showed him his middle-finger. Letz ate Fowzie. I told Letz that I wish he hadn’t of done that. Letz said it was his nature to eat Fowzie. I agreed that made sense.

I asked Letz if he wanted to take a walk with me. He said okay.

We walked for a while, talking about our hopes, and problems, and latest movies that we’d seen. I said that I saw the movie Harper, staring Paul Newman. I shared that he was the best part of the movie because his acting was natural and he’s extremely good looking. I said I didn’t see the whole movie because I got tired of all the 1960’s dancing.

Letz shared that he had seen Life of the Party and didn’t care for it because of the not so good writing, but he stayed through the movie because he bought an extra-large bucket of ants, and he knew it would take the two hours to eat it.

The Bell’s secret

The Bell’s secret


The bell rang out.

I said, “What’s the occasion?”

The bell said, “I’m declaring that love is everywhere.”

I said, “Why do you have to declare it if it’s everywhere?’

The bell said, “So that everybody knows.”

I said, “But you said it’s everywhere.”

The bell said, “Yeah, but people have forgotten and I want them to remember.”

I said, “Which people?”

The bell said, “Um, you know, those who don’t know. You know, those.”

The bell was silent. I gave it a hug.

The bell whispered, “thanks.”

The big block of ice on your head

The big block of ice on your head

a big block of ice

The other night I dreamnt of you. You were balancing a block of ice on your head. I asked you if you wanted to go and see a movie with me. You said, “Yes” and asked if I could wait until the ice had melted. I said okay and waited.

After about an hour, the ice had melted a little. There was a small puddle around your feet. But there was still most of the ice block balancing on your head. I asked you if it would be alright if I got out your blow dryer to quicken the melting. You said, “Okay.”

I got the blow dryer, plugged it in, and began blowing hot air on the block of ice. After an hour and a half, it seemed like the rest of the block of ice had melted. I asked if we could now go to to see a movie. You said there was a sliver of ice still on your head and you wanted to wait until it had completely melted.

We waited another half hour. You said the ice was fully melted and that we could now go and see a movie.

Bee Dazzled

Bee Dazzled

George Raft

When I was a kid, I loved to check out books from the library. But I didn’t read them. I liked knowing they were mine for two weeks. I piled them up on my little kid desk and felt special. I would look at the covers and be dazzled, knowing the books were filled with information I would never have to read.

I knew how to read. But it wasn’t something I cared for. I always liked the general feeling of something rather than the specifics of the contents.

I once checked out a book about the life of movie star George Raft. I liked his face on the cover. He was handsome and dangerous. (That’s his picture up above.) I felt that was me. I had a good face, and I was into shoplifting. When I gazed at his face, I felt that I wasn’t alone in the world.

I also bought books for the same purpose. I bought a book at our school’s book sale for fifty cents because it had a drawing of a county kid on the front cover. I felt that was me too. I liked the simple outdoors life. I liked to put a piece of long grass between my teeth, and keep it there. I never once looked inside that book either.

When I in sixth grade, we had to read the book Treasure Island and write a book report. That book I opened up. But I didn’t read the words. I looked at the colorful artwork of scenes from the book and wrote about the story I got from them. I think I got a C on the paper. It might have been a D-.

It wasn’t until I was in high school that I began to actually read the words in a book. The first one was Slaughter-House Five. The funny thing is, I checked out the book from the library because I was drawn to the cover. When I brought it home, I stunned myself by opening the cover of the book and reading the first page. It turns out, the feeling from those words dazzled me as much as the cover. So I kept reading until I got to the end of the book.

Oh, by the way, Bee is my nickname.


Sometimes I’m

Sometimes I’m


Sometimes I’m an orange. I get picked off the tree, peeled and eaten.

Other times I’m a lime. I’m picked, quartered, and squeezed into a sparkling water.

You can also discover me as milk in a cow’s udder. I get drunk by the calf through the teat.

Sometimes, sometimes, I’m magma. I get restless staying underground, and I burst out, land, harden, and spend a a long while outside.

The other day I was a coconut on a palm tree. I fell off and landed on the ground. A person eventually came by and repeatedly tried to break me open on a rock. I slightly cracked, but wouldn’t open. That person gave up and left me on the ground. Some tiny insects crawled on me and drank the moisture of my milk that had escaped from my crack.


Everyone’s upset

Everyone’s upset

I get upset at the in-animates.

I yell at a pocket notebook that resists me pulling it out of my back pocket. “What are you doing?!”

I fume at dirty glass lenses. “Why can’t you stay clean?!”

I swear at my shirt when I take it off and it gets caught on the back of my head. “Goddammit!”

I’m certain they are doing it on purpose. They know what I want and they are doing the opposite. They resist me because they are upset that they can’t do things on their own. They are my dependent on me. Dependence breeds anger.

I know because I felt the same way when I was a kid. I couldn’t tie my shoelaces. I was unable to open jars. I couldn’t reach the counter to get what I wanted. These and many other unables made me dependent on my folks to do these things for me. As a result I existed in constant sullenness and I showed it when my parents needed me to do something, like get ready to go someplace with them. I would moan and drag my feet resulting in them being late to where they wanted to go.

My resistance sent my parents into a fury because now they were now dependent on me.