Here’s a poem about a subway announcement. For a few years, the train skipped the Smith and Ninth Street stop. I heard this announcement every time I rode the train. Any connoisseur of the F-train will remember it.
If you like monkeys and rum, you might like this story.
Here’s a link to the BBC footage that inspired the story. The moral of this story is keep an eye on your booze.
Here’s a link to the Stoneboat and Pebblebrook Press blog. This is the oddest thing that I have gotten to brag about lately. I just won a lipogram contest. To read the poem and to learn what a lipogram is, follow the link.
You always wonder how much people will read you into whatever you write. This story is titled, Father’s Day. I feel the need to write this note because my father is nothing like the father in the story. He did teach me how to play baseball, and he went to my games but he didn’t display any of the other behaviors in the story. He didn’t and doesn’t drink excessively. At least not around me. We have been to Lookout Mountain. I highly recommend it unless you are afraid of Gnomes. But if you are afraid of Gnomes and want the ultimate place to face your fears, you can do it inside a cave and on a mountain top there. I’m deflecting here. The bartender is a composite of several women that I didn’t actually know. I have known stale pretzels in bars. The pretzels are based on actual pretzels. Rereading the story, I wish I had added some detail about whether they were the kind of pretzels that make a knot or whether they were straight. It makes a difference. They were knots, and they did have salt. Still deflecting. What do I share with this character? I do like whiskey. I’m not above drinking it from coffee cups. I did play some third base in little league. But the rest of it? Nothing like me. And if you do sniff out a resemblance, pretend that you don’t. Writers depend on the friends that read their work to employ that polite fiction. Otherwise, it would be madness to write at all.
Here’s the link:
Every time I go to Florida for a vacation, I seem to come back with an idea for a story. Somehow, in between trips to the condo pool and the theme parks, despite a few drinks in coconuts, I managed to get and keep the idea for this story:
I have a new poem up at Pantheon Magazine. Photo credit to my daughter on the author photo.
Here is the link: http://pantheonmag.com/poor-hylas-jason-primm/