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Wishing For Fiction |
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Monday, July 13, 2009
You got me thinking in Latin funk like every step you take has is being backed up by a horn section and I may not be the last Coke-a-Cola in the desert but we find the right corner in this club this café could melt your sugar Sunday, July 12, 2009
And I’m walking the dogs late because we are all crazy from the heat and we only get crazier without a walk and I see this girl and I think her name is Olivia and I think she was in my homeroom class which was called Quality Time at my school QT for short I think that this is Olivia and I remember thinking that in sixth grade she seemed about 17 and now that she would be about 17 she looks about 14 to me and she is taking sunset pictures she says something to me but my ears are full and we say something to each other but I don’t remember what it was because I am too busy remembering that I used to think that if had a daughter I would want her to be just like you as I walk these 3 miles I am thinking that 33 seems like a lifetime ago and just yesterday I heard two poets talking about how they just want it to be over and then my full ears hear Mongo say that this poet has gone dark as in this poet’s present presence is not presently detectable on the world wide waiting waiting waiting and I’m thinking now it being over is fine but I still want another chance and that this poet has gone dark in the meantime walking almost home I think that I want going dark to mean that the trailsides are scattered with fireflies of the daughters I'm not a father to and that I’m naming them all Olivia Wednesday, July 01, 2009
"We humans, like gods and ghosts, love to eat out own species." Wang Ping It has come to my attention that you are otherwise engaged which makes you all the more appealing Fortunately for all three of us I've given up on other women you included Friday, June 26, 2009
As I recline she leans over me her focus on my mouth my lips parted anticipating her instructions her breasts pressing against the top of my head Open please If persistent testing of my gag reflex is any measure this intimacy is incomparable Thursday, June 25, 2009
I'm thunder rolling across paradise axle deep in dirty blues and bad habits Monday, June 22, 2009
The leaves are out of season rattling or no They drag crisp edges against each other it reminds me of drum brushes like me learning that something I thought inanimate breathes like not knowing the difference between inhale and exhale Friday, May 29, 2009
She is smarter than she looks and she looks meat cleaver clever sharp but not precise This is how she seems as she sits subtly disengaged Her nose wrinkles up as she yawns like she smells something unpleasant that she has decided not to notice But as she stands and points and paces several steps the lack of precision is an exhausted illusion She is sharp like predatory teeth |
The Words
A cocktail of imagined events and real fiction. The Author
Unaffliated Adventurer currently entertaining offers of both the bold and the sublime. Please keep in mind that all work/writing on Wishing for Fiction, Achoo Haiku, Sam Stecher and the Divine Wind, and myspace.com/samstecher page are the property of Sam Stecher. Use them only with the permission of the author and not for your own profit. Sam also used to be a professional fighter. So you might want to keep that in mind as well. The My Space
myspace.com/samstecher The Archives
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The Writer's Almanac McSweeney's MMA Weekly American Life in Poetry Voice
308-627-1969 |
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