Tag Archives: Danny Earl Simmons

What If

It’s a coyote howl against a Bloody Mary moon; panting awake wet from the shivering ache of a nightmare in which you’d found contentment; a cold stroll in the dark as footsteps not your own gain ground; black-sooted bricks, phallic within … Continue reading

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There’s No Quiet in Her Silence

unless you consider the wail of a glacier as it splits down the middle under the shimmer of Aurora Borealis, the crack of lightning striking the crook of a branch so thick it creaks and crackles on its slow fall … Continue reading

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Mommy Mode

I nibble and tease, search for the switch that flips her from the kids’ to mine. Maybe backgammon the way she likes to play it – no one tries to win. I could do dishes while she lingers in the … Continue reading

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Blogosphere

Every fifth gumball is laced with the thin green film of Corporate America and an odd fascination for Cuban cigars. Cadillacs cause cancer. When read from the stratosphere, the U.S. Interstate Highway system spells beefsteak tomatoes in Cherokee. (We all … Continue reading

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Our Son Cries

your heart is a cracked accordion filling fast with salt – Patrick Rosal My ex-wife called to tell me this. Well, not exactly this. She called for money I’d already paid. As an aside, in passing, she added this: Our … Continue reading

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Hymns

Only eighteen months out of practice, I hum lullabies to this youngest of my sons of my jaded middle-age as he sleeps like a furnace swaddled against my chest. His mother steals a few hard hours alone in bed with … Continue reading

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He Is Six and She Is Three

when they’re sent to spend what’s left of their innocence with their aunt, the older sister of their now-dead mother – beaten to death with the fists of their now-imprisoned father who loved them both with a rage so red … Continue reading

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Unremembering

You are drifting into the black-and-white blur that divides reality from imagination. How long did my hand linger in the delicate small of your back? How deep was the green in your eyes the first time you let me see … Continue reading

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X’s and O’s

Would you watch it with the X’s and O’s? Please. I’m a guy. X’s and O’s are sophisticated formations of you go here, then go there, pay attention to this, respond to that. X’s and O’s are the Kama Sutra, … Continue reading

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She Went Too Damned Blonde for Anybody’s Good

Her walk wiggled its way into a sashay; her hugs got tighter, took longer, stopped including the shoulders; her tan lines crept down on top, shimmied up down below and more men met the edges of them. Even her laugh … Continue reading

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Duck à l’Orange

I’d never cooked it before, but it was our first Valentine’s since the baby and I could not stop imagining her taking the first bite, closing her eyes, sultry moans. The problem is I have a one-track imagination. Otherwise, I … Continue reading

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Gravity

It is the exact same gravity that mercilessly drags the Niagara into a rumbling sockdolager of a natural wonder as puckishly pulls the pacifier from my baby boy’s drowsy lips the second we drift into sleep. I liked gravity better … Continue reading

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