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Richard is immersed in biology. He just realizes it, unlike everyone else. Politics become annoying, especially when a dollar store closes because they can’t get goods from China anymore. The biology of politics becomes getting beaten with bricks that — in a midget’s hands — look like legos on the deathbed of a young terminal cancer patient. Sympathy becomes blinded by empathy and people make commercials. Someone has a cause that interrupts a football game. It was supposed to be fun. You end up getting rabies shots because the wild dogs are of unknown origin (that’s a true story), and all because you ran out of eggs. Jesux the jeans had teeth marks and fashion could tolerate holes, but not those that came with experience. Richard eats eggs. Sometimes every day. Sometimes they are eggs beaten with bricks, which is clumsy compared to using a whisk. He doesn’t whisk, but regretfully his tongue is bigger than his mouth, and the lisp never really goes away.
The following work is Copyright © 2017, and owned by Richard Lynch and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Traffic Accident Addict
Tingling neglect gets replaced
Maybe death, as well,
I died in my dreams —
I slept through it several times
Another breath didn’t matter.
In my dreams I lost
Workers laid traffic cones
was alone on my highway
J. K. Durick
J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Social Justice Poetry, 1947, Stanzaic Stylings, Synchronized Chaos, and Algebra of Owls.
The following work is Copyright © 2017, and owned by J. K. Durick and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Going to Bulgaria
I’ve never been to Bulgaria, yet I know that this time of year,