I fool around with a
penny I find heads up in the springtime mud
Lincoln's lugubrious profile stamped in copper (or what used to be copper) D 2011
it's raining I rub off the mud with my thumb then scrape the hard bits with my nail
dirt crusting beneath the cloudy crescent like a small bulb of blood I press the coin
to my palm I try to spin it on my desk but it fall over every time it smells like
metal and sweat and mud I remember kicking penny field goals through my buddies' joined
index fingers in Junior High watching the penny hit a chair on the way down
to the floor, rolling on one edge until we were all sent to the principal's office for what
was then a major disturbance (oh if they only knew how lucky they were) I wonder
what it would feel like on my eyes that little weight pressing down the tender eyelid almost
aching at the pressure the worrying eye cowering beneath its little blanket of flesh
Lincoln's lugubrious profile stamped in copper (or what used to be copper) D 2011
it's raining I rub off the mud with my thumb then scrape the hard bits with my nail
dirt crusting beneath the cloudy crescent like a small bulb of blood I press the coin
to my palm I try to spin it on my desk but it fall over every time it smells like
metal and sweat and mud I remember kicking penny field goals through my buddies' joined
index fingers in Junior High watching the penny hit a chair on the way down
to the floor, rolling on one edge until we were all sent to the principal's office for what
was then a major disturbance (oh if they only knew how lucky they were) I wonder
what it would feel like on my eyes that little weight pressing down the tender eyelid almost
aching at the pressure the worrying eye cowering beneath its little blanket of flesh
Sitting Pretty on the Day
Shift
Despite the headache
tunneling through your skull,
despite the boredom and the dust you can laugh with the best of them. We woke
you up an hour ago and
since then almost nothing
broke, caught fire or got meshed up in the gears. Listen to the music pouring through speakers from every side – such a howl of violins and horns! When the ladies dance in their fur caps even the foreman taps his heels. That could be a dance of joy but for the little hop of pain every third beat. "Don’t quote me on this,” the river man says, "but I’ve been told there’s legislation
in the works." "Never
watch the news,” you say,
“not since Huntley and
Brinkley got divorced.
“So what do you do for laughs?” he asks,
a snarl nailed to his
dry lips. “That’s why I work here
my love,” you say and
kiss him softly on the
forehead, right where
the third eye is rooted to his brain.
Steve Klepetar’s work has received several nominations for the Pushcart Prize
and Best of the Net. Flutter Press has recently published his chapbooks “My
Father Teaches Me a Magic Word,” and “My Father Had Another Eye.” |
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