Monthly Archives: August 2017

Chapel of the Holy Cross

Published August 31, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Chapel of the Holy Cross

Cross built into the red rock hillside.

The red blood of Christ implied

in what was once clearly an ocean floor.

Long before humanity was even possible.

The notion that Earth is six thousand years old

is like saying the sun is a hot balloon.

Why does Christianity need to make natural history its victim?

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Chapel of the Holy Cross built in 1956. Inspired and commissioned by rancher and sculptor, Marguerite Brunswig Staude. Design executed by architect August K. Strotz.

On the site of one of the Sedona vortices.

The Forecast Calls for Pain

Published August 29, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Forecast Calls for Pain

It’s raining diamonds on Neptune.

In the deep blue hydrocarbon seas.

Strangely beautiful and completely devoid of life.

Here on Earth we have a deluge of water.

Inconvenient, but more valuable in a million ways.

The queen of diamonds represents two diverging paths.

Which will be ours?

Preserving our treasure or

drowning in inorganic riches?

Hows Them Apples

Published August 28, 2017 in Arizona Stories , I Don't Even Know - 0 Comments

Hows Them Apples

Here’s a window into my heart.

I’ve reached a place where I don’t need love.

And it’s not at all out of bitterness.

I don’t long for, anymore.

I don’t pine for rapture.

Nor is it out of a sense of defeat.

And there is no malice.

I’m mostly happy and free to just be.

The Great White Ropa-Dope

Published August 25, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

White Ropadope2

It’s a big time money deal.

So they play the race bait.

To get the cash come rainin’ down.

They cyncially market with the color animus.

It’s the Irish boy’s brain,

they don’t give a rat’s ass about.

The head trauma pays.

The race drama plays.

They’ll have few years before

the hand shakes start.

Switchblade

Published August 23, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Switchblade

I may have seen

through the fabric of the universe.

On the day of the solar eclipse,

I sat in meditation and felt

the metallic yin.

The moon cold and decisive as Ulysses’ sword.

It was the approaching night

that I would, thankfully, only witness.

But I saw it,

like a spectator in the coliseum,

the steel grey blades

that killed the gladiators.

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63 words, I am forever free from 55. Now, it’s about how ever many words I need to say what it is I have to say.

Animal Farm

Published August 23, 2017 in Arizona Stories - 0 Comments

Animal Farm

Pearls to swine, but even swine have dignity.

And shouldn’t be talked down to.

Mud is not their fault.

The mule was huge and so in love

with the 35 year old filly.

I bought a beef heart to taste the fire

of the Verde Valley.

Organ meat is always served to the medicine man.

Remorse

Published August 23, 2017 in Mickey - 0 Comments

Remorse

Tempestuous wreckage to clear.

After losing it

over

something

that was

nothing.

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This is a 12 word story from the prompt “Tempestuous”. When I posted it to Instagram a number of people commented as though I were relating a real story. I had to insist it really was fiction. 🙂

Fratricide

Published August 20, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

Fratricide

So, I go to the local gas station/liquor store.

And I’m wearing a cap with an elm tree as the logo

and a tie dye Indonesian number with a pocket

(because a man needs pockets).

And I ask for a map.

After peeking at it, they inform me it’s not for sale.

I hand it back to them.

As I am leaving, the big dude at the register asks me

“Are you sure you aren’t a hit man, casing the area?”

I answer, “Do I look like a hit man to you?”

“Those are the most dangerous ones.” he says with a smile.

A Better Paragraph

Published August 19, 2017 in On Writing - 0 Comments

A Better Paragraph

I’ve written over 500, 55 word stories.

Most people I share this with,

look at me like I’m nuts.

I just keep writing them,

because I love to do it.

Yesterday, it dawned on me.

They have taught me how to craft a good paragraph.

That is a gift unlike any other for writing prose!

Mule Deer Running

Published August 17, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Trish - 0 Comments

Mule Deer Running

There’s a line in the hillside that

they all scamper along.

A coyote ran through the gully,

quick and quiet.

Racing to who knows where.

The cicada sing like pouring rain.

It’s a pulse and within that pulse is a larger wave.

One song of courtship,

the other to mate when she has chosen him.