Foliate Oak Literary Magazine
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DANGEROUS DAYS INDEED

The lost child is found.

The mother's on TV

struggling to stifle tears

as she thanks all fifty searchers.

I can remember

wandering from the playground

as a little boy,

into streets of strange houses,

alien trees.

I never felt the once

that I shouldn't be there.

At the beach,

parents nervously watch their brood,

fearful of a surprise

undertow at ocean's edge,

a small helpless body pulled

into deep dark water.

Yet I remember tumbling

in tricky waves,

going under,

nose full of salt and eyes of sand.

I momentarily erased myself

from adult protection.

Then I resurfaced on my own,

not for the last time.


THAT MOMMA'S BOY

Anna blames it all on David's mother

even though he's forty,

fifteen years out of the family home.

It's why other women

just make him angry, frustrated, disappointed.

According to him, she was perfection.

These harridans, these painted tarts,

aren't worth a thread

of her brown., woolen stockings.

Anna's been married to him

for five long years

and the constant comparisons

put her own nagging to shame.

"Why don't you go back

and live with her,"

has burst out of her mouth

more than once.

It wouldn't surprise her

if he took her up on it.

The old woman would

wait on him hand and foot,

showing him around her friends

like a balding, paunchy trophy.

She'd constantly belittle Anna.

He would nod in agreement

while he downed a plate

of syrup-smothered pancakes.

Anna's pregnant.

She worries that she'll end up

like her mother-in-law,

spend a pointless lifetime

trying to shove that poor thing

back in her womb.

Especially with David around

and always eager to remind her

how good he had it in there.


WHEN BLISS STRIKES BACK

it was a place

awkward with sense of self

but bristling with.

art and magic and reincarnation

and floating hemispheres of being

all voices

traffic

an airplane passing overhead

fed each other

flakes of their own sounds

until their satiation

became a perfect silence

passionately still

I reached out and touched

my surroundings in different ways

without one single drop

of wasted energy

I slowed the present

spread it like a net

over all of time

it was a joy

a revelation

a reconciliation

of all my scattered pieces

sadly

the moment of nirvana

was the beginning

of its dissipation

its escape out through

the wretched pores of my existence

eventually

I was left barren

and coarse and empty

the moment claimed me

forever moved on.