Book Club Goes off the Rails

The seven magpies in the willow thicket reminded Harry of the West Washington Creek Book Coterie. (Harry had some hesitation in calling the group a "Book Club," the reason for which will become obvious, presently.) The difference between the magpies and the coterie was that the magpies were not regularly emptying and filling water glasses … Continue reading Book Club Goes off the Rails →

Nine out of Eleven Connections are not so Good.

Gale Vasher was pretty tired. He was tired of work, he was tired of airports and airplanes, he was tired of the na na na na of meetings that never got anything done, and he was just plain tired. Gale Vasher wanted to get home, finish a week of reports and analysis of na na … Continue reading Nine out of Eleven Connections are not so Good. →

For Student Poet Dreaming of Inspiration

She’s no mealymouth art, that damned mother of wordbirth— nothing fickle about that old tart. Honest as the odor of earth true as you in all your affairs, she is nothing—only your worth. How you carry her loamy dares to amend the alter altar you’ve built of your damaged despair will tell only the soily … Continue reading For Student Poet Dreaming of Inspiration →

Rain Comes

“ForthelovaGod, Micky” Eunice said from the crack in the door, “You’ll catch your death.” Mike heard her but did not turn. It was raining. Not just a high skirted wisp of clouds trailing across the sky with more promise than water, but a full throttle, fine spray, all day rain. He stood in it. He … Continue reading Rain Comes →

Soil Entombs no Deeper

Soil entombs no deeper chagrin for gilded nativity than barned birth So how does empty blue of sky exult any more than the brown odor of earth?

Haiku #9

Old man foot prints in frost on the worn road to Mother’s how many times?

The Promises of Another Day

Ira pulled the door to Jean’s apartment closed. He had spent the last three nights trying to sleep on her couch. Davy, her brother, was in her spare room. Ira was an old man, and had expected to die before any of his children. What little hope he had of that was gone. Jean was … Continue reading The Promises of Another Day →

Waiting on Queue at the Perfume Counter

Doug was in line to the cosmetic counter behind four other customers. There were just two women running the counter, and they looked 5-o’clock frazzled. The canned music recycled “Blue Christmas,” “Jingle Bells,” “Rudolf, the Red Nosed Reindeer,” “Joy to the World,” and the rest of the seasonal irony of joy and good will. Doug … Continue reading Waiting on Queue at the Perfume Counter →

Thanks

This post is for those who follow writelee.com. In the USA, today is the day when people finally come to their senses and give express gratitude for all the wonder the Universe has given them. So WriteLee joins the chorus. He is grateful for many things, chief among these things are three wonderful children, a … Continue reading Thanks →

Ike Pleads the Fifth

Judge Ira Pottsdinger was not happy, he was a man of Justice. Mercy was an afterthought. A day without a conviction was a day when hell froze over for Judge Ira Pottsdinger. “What the hell (he was going to say ‘fuck’ but Defense was a woman, and so he was in mixed company) do you … Continue reading Ike Pleads the Fifth →