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When I open my mouth, I’m shocked that I hear my mother. I hear her voice, her words, but more than that, her attitude. I hear her cadence in my speech and the philosophy I bucked as a child and an adult. She drove me crazy with her notions of what I should and should
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Mothers run a desperate zoo. That’s why we plant flowers. I have a flat and a half of red, fuschia, and orange impatiens on my back porch waiting to dot the ground with their hues. My mom planted flowers, her mom planted flowers, and that’s how she died, weeding her Touch-Me-Nots. Grounds beautification 101, we
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“In those days, in those distant days, in those ancient nights stories were told before there were things to tell stories about, Mom,” Sugar said over her shoulder as she walked out the door and slammed it. “I’m sick of your stories, you tell stories like all the damn time like I’m supposed to learn
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Falling no end in sightfrom heaven?to heaven?to Earth?to ocean?Where do we go when we drift across the skysomeone tell mesomeone sayI don’t want to be afraid to fallmaybe in love.
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Don’t know when I’ve been so very let downMy lips pressed tight right into a grimaceShould have known, didn’t want to show the frownFrustrated shake of the head, a red face.Tears, a bitter smile, a heavier sigh, I should have known better than to trust youSag against the wall, attempting to hideHands that hang, lifeless,
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House at Dusk, Edward Hopper I stumbled out of the mansion’s patio door, the band blared jazz, and I needed air, the whole house panted with people. My head was hot and my hair stuck to my neck from the prickly head, My ears rang from music, laughter, and the jumbled jargon of the rich
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I love to invoke the muses, the proper Pagan practice. The joyful noise of the Canadian Brass playing the Vespers of the Blessed Virgin or Rod Stewart singing Up on the Roof, either one can invoke Terpsichore, the muse of Music. She’ll then ramp up your event with energy, grace, and lots of class. The
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“Don’t tell Mom,” I said. “She’s pregnant.” he said right in front of Mom. He pointed to me. “He did that on purpose too. If he had kept his mouth shut you wouldn’t be here. Neither one of you would. Your dad saved your lives. You can give him credit for that.” If he had
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Snooty Defined
Snooty defined “‘Brook’ sounds too snooty, use ‘creek.’ You’re always putting on airs. Stop trying to be somebody you’re not, use ‘creek.’” said Mr. Barber. Shit, he was mean. I didn’t want him looking at my paper, not after what I’d just heard him do to Cynthia’s. He was right, of course, she was always Read more
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Today I Want…
Today, I want… Summer is a conundrum. I look forward to summer all year long, to be out of school and away from the stench of curriculum. I want to be away from pointing and clicking at things so trite and mindless that it makes me want to lose what little relationship with a creator Read more
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I Need Seven Letters
I looked at the board. “MEDICATE.” My letters covered all but the “C.” Upwords, the word game of all word games, and I scored sixteen points plus a fifty point bonus score. “Eat that!” Nick looked at me with fire in his eyes. Not even his Mama, Express of the Galaxy, Sworn Sorceress of All Read more
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The Teacher
Ode to a Teacher Hammat. John Charles Hammat. Unconventional teacher of the universe died last month. Taught for four years, my four years, enough to get one class through, and quit to clean houses and live however he chose. He’d had enough of public schools. He taught Drama and English, but I only had him Read more
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Didactic
“Didactic,” something that teaches a lesson. I’ve said that “didactic,” was my favorite word for years. and there are people who will verify this. I’ve been a teacher forever, I can only deny so many things. I just looked up a bunch of synonyms for it in Thesaurus.com… Academic, pedantic, homelitic, moralizing, pedagogic, schoolmasterist, why Read more
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When I open my mouth, I’m shocked that I hear my mother. I hear her voice, her words, but more than that, her attitude. I hear her cadence in my speech and the philosophy I bucked as a child and an adult. She drove me crazy with her notions of what I should and should
-
Mothers run a desperate zoo. That’s why we plant flowers. I have a flat and a half of red, fuschia, and orange impatiens on my back porch waiting to dot the ground with their hues. My mom planted flowers, her mom planted flowers, and that’s how she died, weeding her Touch-Me-Nots. Grounds beautification 101, we
-
“In those days, in those distant days, in those ancient nights stories were told before there were things to tell stories about, Mom,” Sugar said over her shoulder as she walked out the door and slammed it. “I’m sick of your stories, you tell stories like all the damn time like I’m supposed to learn
-
Falling no end in sightfrom heaven?to heaven?to Earth?to ocean?Where do we go when we drift across the skysomeone tell mesomeone sayI don’t want to be afraid to fallmaybe in love.
-
Don’t know when I’ve been so very let downMy lips pressed tight right into a grimaceShould have known, didn’t want to show the frownFrustrated shake of the head, a red face.Tears, a bitter smile, a heavier sigh, I should have known better than to trust youSag against the wall, attempting to hideHands that hang, lifeless,
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House at Dusk, Edward Hopper I stumbled out of the mansion’s patio door, the band blared jazz, and I needed air, the whole house panted with people. My head was hot and my hair stuck to my neck from the prickly head, My ears rang from music, laughter, and the jumbled jargon of the rich
-
I love to invoke the muses, the proper Pagan practice. The joyful noise of the Canadian Brass playing the Vespers of the Blessed Virgin or Rod Stewart singing Up on the Roof, either one can invoke Terpsichore, the muse of Music. She’ll then ramp up your event with energy, grace, and lots of class. The
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“Don’t tell Mom,” I said. “She’s pregnant.” he said right in front of Mom. He pointed to me. “He did that on purpose too. If he had kept his mouth shut you wouldn’t be here. Neither one of you would. Your dad saved your lives. You can give him credit for that.” If he had
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School Sense
“God almighty, Mr. Cooper’s room smells like disinfected death again. We’re either dissecting fetal pigs or cats,” said Beth. “My money’s on frogs,” said Tim, he paused, “Remember when Jasmine had that meltdown the time he surprised us with the cats?” Beth laughed. “I remember that day. The whole class was shocked. I wasn’t pleased,…
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Selling Cars
Celia made a decent living as the head sales person at the Mercedes dealership downtown. She’d just come from a dinner party at Jolene’s, her best friend from high school, where there were doctors, lawyers, and teachers in an exquisite home in the most elite neighborhood. Jolene had gone to college, earned a teaching degree,…
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Fugitive
Image generated with AI. As bad as I hated him, I was losing my mind with worry. I thought I would kill him when he got out at two in the morning and ran across the patio. Instead of stopping, like he usually did, he ran under the fence and disappeared into the night, really…
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Mom’s Gravy
Image generated with AI. The house smelled like breakfast. The sausage left a little grease in the pan, but it was pungent and spicy enough to make gravy. Mom added a little butter and the sweet nutty smell peppered the air, then she mixed in flour, enough to soak up the grease and butter to…
Devonne Brown 