A friend of mine made out with Christmas, but I boned Samhain. It was like falling into a plane at 7000 miles per year. So much better than kissing a manger or worse. I don’t know. Someone married the Fourth of July. It ended in alcoholism. No one is born on birthdays anymore. It seems … Continue reading
Tag Archives: Ron Riekki
fall 2015 / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Volume 46
The Alligator in the Kitchen, Leesburg, Florida, Wednesday — Ron Riekki
The men stand, holding brooms, waiting for the madness to ring a bell. No one dares move. The night has teeth, teeth like God, a mouthful of God, filled with meat. Who left the door open? Nothing to be said. Just this congregation of testosterone near the refrigerator, tugging at hips, invisible holsters, souls … Continue reading
I Pooped My Pants in Boot Camp — Ron Riekki
My creative writing teacher told me there are several titles to poems that will never be published. She put them on the board and dared us to even try. She said she had spent half of her life submitting “The Drunken Pharaohs Walk Out of Disney’s Tomorrowland” and that she has almost broken … Continue reading
