Tag: Yeah Write

Corner Pocket

While my Dad chalked his cue, I’d rack up the balls, arranging rearranging in the triangle all the balls as if eventually I’d get it right, the perfect mosaic, so he’d nod and break the rack, and see me as a player. ___________ Photo… Continue Reading “Corner Pocket”

Staying in the Life Outside

When summer turned to fall, the old man closed the window, not because he was cold, not yet, but because he thought he might be cold soon. And he didn’t want to be found lying dead on the bedroom floor in deep winter with… Continue Reading “Staying in the Life Outside”

Q and A with a Seventies Single Mom

Q: So I’m fascinated by this topic. Just thinking about what it must have been like to have been a single mom in the seventies. Forty years ago. Another world. A: Yeah. It was a bitch being left alone on the prairie in my… Continue Reading “Q and A with a Seventies Single Mom”

The Pros and Cons of Writing Contests

The title suggests I’m a veteran of writing contests. I’m not. I’ve only entered two and I’m in the middle of the second one. Both are Yeah Write Super Challenge contests with three rounds, each requiring an essay in response to a prompt. The… Continue Reading “The Pros and Cons of Writing Contests”

Cold Reality

The man of letters looks out over Lake Michigan, steam fog rising into the subzero air. We are stopped at a light waiting to turn left. I roll down the window and snap a series of pictures with my phone. I want the perfect… Continue Reading “Cold Reality”

Picked Last

I want to play tag It’s just running I can run Everybody runs the same Tag is stupid, they say We should play ball, they say Let’s pick teams, they say I line up and wait Until the line is gone Hoping


Prayer might work. A poultice perhaps. Crushed flax seeds have helped some but I forget their names. A trip to the Grand Canyon to see the abyss in daylight is said to be good preparation. It’s up to you at this point. __________________ Written… Continue Reading “Options”

The Tiny Ceilidh

Be very quiet, kiddo. Don’t make a sound. Look right here, under this bush. One of them is playing a wee fiddle and the rest are dancing. See their little shoes? They’re gold, kiddo. Pure gold. Aren’t we lucky to see them?

Time Travel

Never mind It’s nothing I forgot It just comes to me Now and then Whistling Like a tiny train across the desert Of what is left of my memories Songs on the car radio Tuned to then Going away and coming back

We Made It!

I could’ve quit but I didn’t. It’s not like it was such a big deal. I didn’t paddle a kayak across the Atlantic Ocean or ride my bike from Jersey to L.A. I didn’t climb Mt. Everest or swim from Cuba to Key West.… Continue Reading “We Made It!”

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