Hellraiser
Shadowbox Live
The Worly Building
Columbus, Ohio
By
Rick Brown
Click Here for the Review
Desire
Shadowbox Live
The Worly Building
Columbus, Ohio
By
Rick Brown
Click Here for the Review
Covfefe
The vastness of the vast,
the vast conspiracy.
As vast as the ocean,
vastness deep.
So vast as to be unseen
Covfefe, covfefe, anon.
From my mouth of madness
I have sprung.
Like Hemingway in Spain,
I am tweeting in vain
while the vast dark sea rolls on.
Collusion, collision
there is no cohesion.
I make up the words
and roll them together
like marbles in the wind.
Covfefe, covfefe anon.
Vast is Russia
like the vast conspiracy
and the vastness of all I see.
For I live in a land
of smoke and mirrors
and clouds of witless.
Covfefe, covfefe, anon.
Dennis Toth |
http://leavesofcrass.blogspot.com/
You Are What You Drive
by
Rick Brown
In my
2018 Prius:
I'm George Jetson
2008 Prius:
… Major Tom
2000 Jeep Cherokee:
… Fred Flintstone
1991 Miata:
… Grandpappy Amos
Yesssss … we have 4 vehicles … for the time being.
… and multiple personalities. |
Bob the Mower
by
Rick Brown
Disclaimer: Those of you readers under the age of say … 50 … GET READY TO GOOGLE!!!
A couple of years ago … in the early spring … I ambled out to our one car garage in the backyard to inspect my lawnmower. In my younger days, I looked at this as a rite of spring. You know … the first mowing … smell of freshly cut grass … that promise of the summer to come and the end of winter. So, I backed our ’91 Miata out and parked it lovingly on the cross street.
I took one look at the old Toro and wondered exactly how long I had been using this machine. The tires were all split. The handle was bent from repeatedly crashing into it with the roadster it shared shelter with. There was a half inch of brown, dead grass from last summer clinging to it. And I wondered … aloud … how long it had been since I had the oil changed?
Hey! If a man can’t abuse his lawnmower what CAN he abuse?
My wife Yvonne found the original receipt for my trusty Toro and we were both shocked to learn that it had served us for 13 summers. You can’t ask more from a mower than that. I realized I’d be looking at new ones soon. And with that thought what little romance involving mowing the lawn I had retained disappeared. When I returned to the garage, I swear I witnessed Old Red Toro’s ghost slipping out the rising door and ascending into lawnmower heaven.
I looked and looked … shopped and shopped. But deciding the responsible thing to do was get a cordless electric model came with a price. A price of about $700 … maybe $800. And it was in the middle of bitching about this to Yvonne when the epiphany came.
Retired … moving into my late 60s … 35 years of lawn mowing history … HEY DUDE! PAY someone ELSE to MOW the FUCKING GRASS!! And much to my delight, Yvonne not only thought this was a good idea … she knew of a guy taking care of lawns on our block.
His name is Bob. Bob the mower.
Bob is a very nice man. He is very responsible. He comes once a week … unannounced … and mows our grass. Half the time I’m not sure if it’s him mowing … until Freddie (our 8 ½ pound Maltese) hears the side yard gate slam. Both of us then catch a glimpse of him dutifully working in the backyard. Freddie barks. Bob waves. I return the salutation.
The man is by nature intriguing. Hardly complex … but sweet … private … and interesting. And he is a sight. Sometimes he wears a shirt. Sometimes not. But he always has on his work boots … and long cargo shorts that might have been called “clam diggers’ in 1959. And Bob ALWAYS wears his floppy hat … one from the Mom’s Mabley Collection.
The only time I talk with Bob is payday. Every 4 to 6 weeks he knocks on the front door … receipt in hand … and politely collects his payment.
Yvonne had to go out of town for a few days recently. And before she left she said, “Bob is coming. Here’s his money for the next month.” And sure enough, two days later Bob is outside doing his thing. I had an afternoon appointment and didn’t want to miss paying him. So, while he was using his leaf blower on the sidewalk, I picked Freddie up and went out to tell him I needed to leave in 15 minutes.
Bob saw us … turned off his blower … and waved enthusiastically. Freddie was squirming and crying in excitement at the sight of Bob in his Mom’s hat. We agreed to meet at the front door for the money exchange. And that’s when Bob stuck out his fist close to Freddie’s face … as if trying to fist bump the pooch. In response Freddie gave his knuckles a big lick and Bob recoiled in quasi-horror.
“Not a dog person” is what I thought.
Soon enough I hear Bob on the front porch knocking. Freddie began his “whirling dervish” routine … making that little dog barking sound a lot of people hate and I now find endearing. The two of us joined Bob on the porch. I gave him his well-deserved payment … all the while Freddie is squealing with excitement and wiggling in my arms. And AGAIN, Bob tries to fist bump Freddie’s nose and AGAIN Freddie moistened Bob’s knuckles.
“NOT a dog person!” I again thought.
“You got a really spoiled little dog there” Bob announced as he began descending the porch stairs.
“I know.” I replied … then added, “And he really loves his Uncle Bob!”
And Bob stopped dead in his tracks.
“Uncle Bob?” he said softly.
Immediately the man returned to the front door. He stuck out an open hand to Freddie. Freddie kissed Bob’s fingers and the man responded by tousling the fur atop Freddie’s head … as if he were a small child.
Then Bob cavorted down the porch stairs … got into his pickup truck … and drove off.
|
Rick's Books, Naked Sunfish Caviar
& Best Bites,
are available at:
Lulu.com
Rick's
book, Best Bites is available at:
Lulu.com & Amazon.com
Jimmy Mak's new book,
Daddies Shouldn't Breakdance,
is available at:
Amazon.com & CreateSpace.com
Elva Griffith's new book,
The Analysis of H Final,
is available at:
Amazon.com
The Non-Fiction Theater of the Truly Mundane
proudly presents:
Dental Health
by
Rick Brown
Scene: A dentist’s examination room. Rick is sitting in the dentist chair … center stage … patiently waiting for the doctor. Dental Assistants dressed in scrubs of a myriad of colors, scurry from both stage left and right bringing X-rays, charts and folders. Paul McCartney’s Ram can be heard in the background. Rick’s Dentist … a tall, 40-something man with charmingly unkempt hair saunters into the room stage left.
Dentist – Hey Rick … been a while.
Rick – Yeah … been out of state a while. How are you Doc? Been to any concerts? Festivals lately?
Dentist - Nope …. Wish I had. Been too damned BUSY workin’.
Rick -Too bad … sorry to hear that.
The doctor sits down next to Rick on a stool.
Dentist (Looking directly at Rick) – YEAH! I feel like I work ALL the TIME. Wish I could retire.
Rick – You’re kind of young to retire.
Dentist – I know. Still … oh well … I’d probably get bored if I wasn’t working.
Rick – There are worse things in life than boredom.
The Dentist looks quizzically at his patient.
Rick - … and one of those things is WORKING!
Dentist – (smirking slightly) - Well thanks Rick. That made me feel a LOT better.
Curtain
Cast:
Rick – his retired, filling needed self
Dental Assistants - their scurrying, multi-color attired selves
Dentist – his impatient, music loving, overworked self
|
Vainglorious Warrior: The Sparrow
by
aNna (Wellman) rybaT
&
Cathy Barber
Collaboration of poetry written by childhood friend, Cathy Barber, and my painting.
My “tree” (“CoLorField sculpture painting”) provided the backdrop to this multi-dimensional creation: A place for the little songbird to perch.
Sparrow
After “Stork” by Ellen Bryant Voigt
They are so ubiquitous people call them
LBJs: little brown jobs. Most cozy
to civilization. House Sparrows
build nests in walls and roofs.
Chipping Sparrows sculpt nests
with hair. There are Vesper Sparrows,
White-throated Sparrows and
Grasshopper Sparrows. The Hedge Sparrow
is not a sparrow but the White-rumped
Snow Finch is.
In Indonesia, if a woman spies a sparrow
on Valentine’s Day, she will find happiness
marrying a poor man. In ancient Greece,
they, birds of love, drew Aphrodite’s chariot.
Christians believe the sparrow loyally
stayed with Christ through crucifixion.
Ancient Egyptians believed they
caught the souls of the dead
and carried them to heaven.
Mao went about eliminating the seed eaters
in the Great Leap Forward’s Kill
a Sparrow Campaign. Peasants smashed eggs,
shredded nests, shot them from the sky,
banged pots and pans to exhaust
the sparrows, too frightened to land.
Locusts devoured the crops.
Cathy Barber
* Previously published in Schuykill Valley Journal of the Arts
Blog: http://www.annarybat.blogspot.com
Mother Earth
by
Gabriel Guyer
http://www.gabrielguyer.com
Man on North High Street
by
Amy McCrory
Blog:
http://amymccrory.wordpress.com/
The Non-Fiction Theater of The Truly Mundane
proudly presents:
Progressives
by
Rick Brown
Scene: A long hallway directly behind a downtown live theater. The walls are brick and have local artwork hanging. It is 90 minutes before curtain time and the interior is dimly lit. Rick is walking briskly towards the restrooms ahead at the end of the hallway. Suddenly a tall woman dressed in black emerges from the kitchen door a few yards in front of the men’s room entrance. Rick recognizes her and stops to chat.
Rick – HELLO Mary!
Mary – Rick! How are you?
Rick - I’m good. How about you? I haven’t seen you in ages!
Mary – I’m doing fine thanks.
Rick – Are you in the show?
Mary – No … no. Doin’ tech tonight … just filling in.
Rick – How about that music gig.? You still doing music at that high school?
Mary (with an air of frustration) - Nope. I was told that I was “too progressive” for their program. So … they let me go.
Rick (a bit confused) – Uh … too … progressive?
Mary (looking straight into Rick’s eyes) – Yeah … said … I … had … a … FILTHY … MOUTH!
Rick – Wow … well … the way things are going in this country … we’re ALL in fucking trouble!
Mary (grinning wryly while nodding her head) – Yep! … YEP! … YEP!!!
Curtain
Cast:
Mary – her progressive filthy mouthed self
Rick – his also in fucking trouble self |
