All posts in "Jack Sprat"

Word Play

Published November 29, 2017 in Cintusia , Jack Sprat , NY Stories - 0 Comments

 

Word Play2“A hard-on is not chemistry”, Cynthia said,

Hands on hips.

“Damn it!” he thought.

“So close and she has to get all

definitiony. Fuck!”

“You’re right, baby.” he said apologetically.

“Don’t ‘you’re right baby’, me.”

“I’m driving you home.” she said.

Somehow she hit every green light

on the avenue.

Jack couldn’t catch a break.

Just Deserts

Published October 15, 2017 in Jack Sprat , LA Stories - 0 Comments

Just Deserts

God works in mysterious ways.

Rashes, sores and pestilence.

How people love to make him responsible

for all manner of random.

Then search for the meaning why.

Was it retribution or reward?

A death in the family,

the whole block burned but their house was spared.

The tree was struck by lightning and the sap exploded

sending shrapnel towards the house.

In the window was their coat of arms

it took a direct hit and smashed to pieces.

They’re cursed now for a whole generation.

Teen Spirit

Published October 7, 2017 in Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

Teen Spirit

Decided to drop acid and climb the maple tree.

Jack brought his french horn.

Jerry got the bright idea that they should

bring down the telephone pole

in front of the post office with pruning sheers.

They snapped off as they went for

the main support cable.

Thank God that didn’t work out as planned.

Psychobabble

Published October 4, 2017 in Jack Sprat , Ruth - 0 Comments

Psychobabble2

“Freud was the one who introduced the idea of projection,” said Ruth.

“No he didn’t. Freud was a fraud, a coke head, and he faked his case studies.” replied her son, Jack.

“He was not a fraud. Jung was a fascist.”

“What do you mean?”

“A nice fascist, but he was a fascist.”

“Not true!”

“He was always jealous of Freud.”

The Birch Tree

Published September 6, 2017 in Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

The Birch Tree

The lower branches were trimmed off

so it was tough to climb.

But the upper branches were big

and plentiful.

They reached out

over the roof of the house.

Jack was under house arrest,

but it was an easy lean and swing

onto the tree.

Then down into the yard

for a quiet escape.

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.

Harvest Festival

Published July 23, 2017 in Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

Harvest Festival

A pile of half rotten cucumbers shaped in ways suggestive.

They were tasked with the clean up.

One look at each other, another look at the mound.

It was on – hurling, howling and ducking for cover.

Took one upside the head, then he caught Patrick squarely as he ran.

Hadn’t laughed that much in years.

See Saw

Published July 16, 2017 in Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

See Saw

See saw Margery Daw,

Jenny shall have a new master;

And she’ll get bounced in the air

and sent flying off…

Jack’ll be caught and given hard labor.

Then, she’ll get paid but a penny a day

Because she can’t work any faster

And because she toils in the sweat shops

that make the emperor’s clothes.

Homer the Third

Published July 10, 2017 in Homer , Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

Homer the Third

He was always a bit mischievous.

Took off at the drop of a hat.

Jack brought him one day to a figure drawing class.

Let him go so he could focus on his drawing.

Next thing you know the dog was sniffing the model’s private parts.

Jack grimaced and pulled him off the platform.

Drive In Movie

Published July 9, 2017 in Jack Sprat , Marianne - 0 Comments

Drive In Movie2

Visiting her folks’ place in Jersey.

Strict Irish Catholic family.

Marianne’s room was in the attic.

Jack got the couch in the basement.

Mother slept with the bedroom door open.

No choice but the old Volvo for fooling around.

Steaming up the windows.

And covering each other’s mouths to keep the noise to a minimum.

1 2 3