Eldon (Craig) Reishus

The House Painter

As a baby Jimmy fell down the family clothes chute and landed in the laundry bag's faint fecal smells.

Twenty years later, hit over Nam, Jimmy parachuted to a mean rock on the Mekong. He returned a free man,

but that didn't last long, his cherished bride insisting on a new kitchen ventilator. Those rescues behind him,

bare-assed in his trailer home, Jimmy never had it so good. Lobster didn't do it for him, hell, boil him up a couple of eggs.

Then Jimmy's truck struck fire and he had to get hitched all over again. Found himself a sweet traveler though.

Aaron Lee Moore

Needle Eye

The wavy metal sword,
Forged by the neophytic
Hands
Of a gap-toothed grease monkey meth-head,
Seems so distant now
Between the unfinished syllabi
And repeated bank statements.

Far away
The blundering knife fights,
Among children,
While the obese mother
Traverses in her green Chevy Neon
On a quest for 40 golden ounces
Of premium malt beverage.

On Sunday the fat bodies whirl
Like angels before God,
Pray through the grinding knees
For two consecutive paychecks.

Now, the cigar smoke haze mal-lingers
Like menthol smoke in a double-wide trailer,
Deeply haled and droll.