Monthly Archives: May 2013

Car Alarm Lullaby


Beep beep, whoo whoo,

in the city of poverty;

rest your weary head,

gasp for breath,

calm down.

There may be no serenity

but you’re alive,

have some wealth,

so calm down.

Beep beep, whoo whoo,

a serenade of security;

keep your goods safe

from all those poor

that surround.

Beep beep, whoo whoo,

try not to feel guilty,

lying in La Paz luxury

complaining about the accoutrements,

trying not to think of the reality

beyond the car alarm lullaby.

Beep beep, whoo whoo,

goodnight La Paz.


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Filed under Poetry, Uncategorized

Tough Times

Life throws the blows without any gloves

and if you wanna play, you’re gonna get roughed up.

You may prostrate yourself, seek help from above

but that won’t stop you from getting popped.

There are no rules to this game, it seems;

cheaters and nitwits regularly rewarded

while malnourished hopes and half-dollar dreams

are crushed for the intrepid pure hearted.


Cruelest fate and uncaring universe

pummel and punish friends and loved ones

while I stand in the corner with no towel to toss,

no words of wisdom, no insightful instructions;

helpless and worthless, completely ineffective,

watching aghast the ponderous barrage.

My final fig leaf is my meager perspective,

recognition that beyond us is a world at large;

no matter how deeply we feel our pain

there are bigger problems, tragedies even,

so we might bite our lips when we want to complain

and with smiles and kindness try this world to leaven.

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Gunshots (Friday Fictioneers)


There were like these gunshots outta nowhere.  I’m like “whoa, somebody’s shootin’, what’s going on Jimmy?”  Cause I was rollin’ with my man Jimmy.

But then I saw Jimmy was down, and I was all “Jimmy’s down, Jimmy’s down.”  Cause Jimmy was like down and shit.  There was blood and I was freaking out, “Jimmy caught one.”  Yeah, he got shot, what’d I say?

So I gotta call 5-oh and shit, but I ain’t got no phone, so I checked for a PF1.  But then the handset was all shot or busted or whatever.  Good thing you guys came anyways.


Other Friday Fictioneers posts of mine can be found as below:


Michael Nicoletta

Other posts for the same picture can be found here.


Filed under Prose, Shorts

Shadows (Friday Fictioneers)


This was where it happened 30 years ago.  Where a stepfather despoiled the innocence of a scared little boy and coerced silence.

Here, too, was where he’d planned revenge and escape.  An old kitchen knife rusted in the weeds even now, along with remnants of his youth.  But plans are just fantasies for scared little boys; in the end escape takes longer than you think you can last.

He was drawn here today after the funeral of the carnal criminal, whose shadow still darkened his past, present and future.  He sat smoking for hours, wondering if he had finally escaped.


Other contributions for this week’s 100 word story challenge can be found here.

My other Friday Fictioneer short:  Michael Nicoletta


Filed under Prose, Shorts



on your spouse

on your taxes

when no one is watching


the house

with some practice,

it’s all in the counting


your clients

for profit and promotion



and natural selection

to reach for that trophy


use a sheet

on that test

use a code

for that game


so you beat

all the rest

the reward

is the same



while you can…

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Michael Nicoletta (Friday Fictioneers)


Hard to believe the proprietor of such a kitschy little bar used to work for the mob.  But I guess that’s the point of witness relocation.

Unfortunately for the bartender formerly known as Michael Nicoletta an old friend of the “Family” recognized him.

Didn’t take long for me to get the call after that.  I’m the exterminator called in to deal with rats.  Feel ridiculous in my Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, but helps people not remember my face.

I sit in the corner ‘til I’m the last customer.  Then I make sure I’m the very last customer of Michael Nicoletta.


This is my attempt at the Friday Fictioneers challenge to write a 100 word short story based on the image.  You can find quite a few other contributions here.


Filed under Prose, Shorts

0 for 26 (Jiu Jitsu)

Straining to recall my training

while strength and will are waning;

my opponent with strength of two of me

holding me down and constricting my gi;

breathing now labored I wiggle and squirm

to create space to struggle and worm

my way to relief and a better position.

Alas, must succumb to this suffocation,

tap-tap and it’s over for the 26th time in a row;

lost again.  Stand up, tie my belt and proffer a bow.

Disappointed to have dropped yet another bout,

but bring on number 27, I think I’ve figured this out.


Filed under Poetry