Friday, January 25, 2013

Weekly Worded

    Not So Fatal Attraction

“Is that a canker sore on your lip?”
“No, it’s a wart.  Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“There has to be a reason.  Normally people look away.”
“Just wondering, that’s all.”
“Were you thinking about kissing me?”
“Kissing you?  Don’t be ridiculous!”
“You’re probably worried about STDs.”
“I was not worried about anything, I was concerned.  It must hurt.”
“Canker sores are not contagious.”
“I didn’t know that, but I really don’t care.”
“It’s warts that can be transferred to other people.”
“You are a font of information about contagious conditions.”
“I think it gives me a sensuous lip.”
“You ought to get it taken care of.”
“Actually, it’s just a canker sore.  Eventually it’ll go away.”
“Then why did you tell me it was a wart?”
“I wanted you to think I was a prince.”
“That’s the worst come-on line I’ve ever heard.”
“So kissing is out of the question?”
“Kissing was never a part of the question.”
“A handshake?”
“That’s my Parkinson’s.”

Friday, January 18, 2013

Weekly Worded


Dead people remain
in my contacts.  I won’t
delete them, I can’t. 

They are forever
lodged at the place we last spoke.
It’s easy to forget,

to include them
in a message sent to all
and if I hear back

from anyone, it’s
never them, just that damned

returning my note,
as if to highlight my loss.
Once I intentionally

composed a message
to a friend who’d left me long ago. 
I typed, How are you? 

I miss hearing from you.
Mailer-Daemon, quicker than
I could pronounce my

friend’s name came back with,
Sorry, we were unable
to deliver your

  I shouldn’t have
replied, but I did,
I know.

Friday, January 11, 2013

eBook Promotion

The Reader Revolution*

“Would you charge this, please?”
“Debit or credit?”
“I mean, plug it in and charge the battery.”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit in this bookstore all day and read.”
“I bought the book when I came in.  It’s defective, so I’m returning it.”
“I’ve been at this register since morning and you haven’t purchased anything!”
“I beg your pardon!  I downloaded this book while I sat right over there.”
“That doesn’t constitute a purchase in our store.”
“I couldn’t have done it without your WiFi connection.”
“To be clear, that doesn’t make it a store purchase.”
“The site I downloaded it from had your store name on it.”
“That is our corporation, but it is not our store.”
“Well, I want to return it.”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s badly written.”
“You’ll have to complain to the author.”
“When will he be in?”
“Sir, eBooks are intellectual property.  They’re virtual.  You can’t return them.  Once downloaded, they’re yours, at least until the distributor takes away your access.”
“That’s the last time I buy a book here!”
“Thank you, we are grateful.  Is there anything else?”
“Yeah, where is your virtual trash can?”

*Yep, How Delicate These Arches is now available in multiple formats as an eBook.  Just $4.99.  No paper, no ink, no mess.  If you can't find it at your favorite eStore, check with Booktango.  Send it as a gift, or if you would be so kind, please forward this link to anyone you know who needs a laugh.  A smile for every week of the new year, if you limit yourself to one essay per week -- two on holidays!
  Thank all of you for your clicks, and for your support.  Best wishes and blessings in 2013.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Weekly Worded


Trudging the untrodden snow, he focuses
on the ridge, lets his boots punch holes
through the crust without glancing down to see
how deeply mired he might become.

His tracks trace a tether back to his porch
like strands of barbed wire set by the effort
of keeping a straight line.  His life takes him
in this direction, out from his comfortable home

to a place where he stands catching his breath,
watching smoke rise from a chimney,
remembering for the first time since he left
lighting the stove, closing but not locking the door.