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Published in Calamities Presshttp://calamitiespress.com/2014/08/24/peace-be-with-you-slippy-realism-by-joao-cerqueira/ Peace be with you Jesus returned to earth by walking down the middle of…
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The casual writer uses the work "dick" often. Other words for this appendage he finds pretentious, emasculating, or too much trouble to look up. A dick has simple motives. It is an agent of birth and death, a divining rod for the dark wet.
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Troy approached the podium and cleared his throat.
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these fleeting
moments of insanity.
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111176
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The terms of a broken heart, I guess I nevergot to read them. But they must besomething awful, something numbing, something no sane personwould ever agree to. You're already on the vergeof becoming nothing I can remember without a photograph beingshoved in my face. Like a…
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111143
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I had the blues. I was feeling down the day the circus came to town. There was cash in my pocket and a bag of weed. I went to the circus with a desperate need to renew my faith in the good of mankind. Perhaps under the big top some laughs I’d find.
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111052
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The moon once rose on its own
Now it takes a series of
Ropes and pulleys to get it up
Because it’s so old
And you can hear these audible groans
Coming from its craters
As it’s forced to listen to forgotten lovers
Obsessing over old lov
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I wonder if this is how my parents viewed their marriage.
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Barbarians and savages wore feathers/
or frightful face paint or skin tones//
one could recognize and aim for/
with weapons one could feel
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dove from the trenches, double-check
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111030
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When the deer did come, I couldn't shoot straight. I didn't feel scared, but I didn't want to miss and my hand was shaking. I hurried. I held my gun pointing out at the path and fired. But it went a little wild and instead of taking the deer down, I shot
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I'm staying in swinging all night
Hell not just all night but every night
I can possibly sink my teeth into
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111000
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Jerry turned away from the window to face the box on wheels. Its camera would scan his face, looking for the answers.
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Keeper of the balance. Husband of the night.
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are speaking clear enough, through their open and bleeding wounds, for you to at least try and understand. Waving their massive arms like living lighthouses, bobbing in and out of the floundering waves, they are splashing out an…
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Can't you go faster Said the disciple to the master Won't you speed up the car I know that you're loaded And I've already goaded You into crashing through the star But we need To pick up more speed As we break past all the flames So we might soon demise In this…
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111020
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she covered me with down and kissed me good night, tucking in loose ends, whispering prayers... she cut me out of paper and blew me into life. she held the scissors near my neck in case i put up a fight. she covered me in clothes cut out of colored paper: polka dotted…
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He said I was doing it all wrong
Opened up his ghastly mouth
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She says that she’s a prisoner in her own life, and if she wants to get drunk at two in the afternoon with a bunch of union men, then she’ll do it. She says I am welcome to go fuck myself.
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110900
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At the first door the clumsy research assistant from the Wistar Institute of Anatomy and Biology rings the bell and when the door opens Mr. Whitman says " O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring!" instead of "Trick or treat" just as we'd prac
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Marvin and first had met four years ago on an iron train peeling through the seething Asian night on rails between Bangkok and Chiang Mai city...
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When you finally arrive,
when you are bounced from Bingo
for calling out too many false Bingos,
may the mothers be there
to lift the children
off your soul.
May you see the fiery red word Psychic
above the doorway
underneath the green
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110920
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Saul Lies, 33 and uneager to lift his head off of the hair grease stained pillowcase that absorbed his mental anguish most nights, stayed in bed past noon
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110943
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She couldn't see what was actually there—the landscaping. All she could see were dollar signs, thousands of them suspended in mid-air, floating over each new plant, each well-placed sprinkler head, every curve of terraced orderliness on the hillside. She…
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Against that, this testament, scratched/
with misshapen styluses, made/
from memory by unskilled hands,/
with a pallid memory of ink.
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She thought she would be happy nowA new beginningA new lifeit wasn't to behe tore up all her nicememories
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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.
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