Joe Swanson

“What Can I Do For You” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

What Can I Do For You “What is this?” “What does it look like?” It looks like a note, because, it is a note, written on what looks to be the back of an advertisement proclaiming the double decker to be the juiciest burger ever, “Subliminal.” I look from the paper into his steely black eyes, bulbous face, and habitually worn stocking cap, adorned with the remnants of dead leaves.  I am not a believer in fate, destiny, or really any insinuation that infers a Deja vu fog covers any situation in life, but I was considering changin...

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“Bombs Bursting In Air” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

Bombs Bursting In Air I thought it was the sun. It’s daily formal rehearsal, the horizon silhouetting the mountains to the East, a rooster proclaiming a new day open for business, but it is only 2 AM. Our French doors overlook the valley that flows from the mountains. Our usual sunrise experience occurs, depending upon the time of year of course, somewhere between when it gets light and when I wake up. This new light is blinding. I look across the room at the clock, two minutes after two. I nudge her. she r...

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“This or That” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

This or That This was supposed to be the best day of their lives, and now…? “Doesn’t it always seem to be the case, that just when you reach for that last cookie you’d been fantasizing about all day, it is… “Yup! And I’m really sorry about that. I had no idea it was the last one. I have to admit, I never even looked into the jar. There’s something about that face on your pig cookie jar, that makes me feel creepy. So I don’t spend anymore time in its presence than necessary. I usually lift the top of its h...

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“Henry” by Joe Swanson

Henry “My God, is that you?” Who else would it be? Here I am back not fifteen minutes, and who should I run into, but him. Next, he’ll want to know what I’m doing here; he hasn’t seen me in twelve, thirteen years? Well, I’ve been gone, left, and for good reason. I’m here now because, well, I don’t really know, but there’s something that I can’t explain pulling me back. It’s kind of like a curse, if I don’t do it, black cats are going to cross my path. I’ll be walking under ladders the rest of my life; I had to come...

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“Memory of a..........” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

Memory of a… It had been twenty-four years since she last saw the place, and it hadn’t changed at all. Her mind crawling back, in search of memories.  Her initial feeling leaving her in search of…what? She reminded herself, that that time had gone. It seemed so long ago since they’d left, and yet, only yesterday. The bird bath remained in the center of the rose garden where she had placed it, an anniversary gift from him. She could see her face reflected in the mirrored water. She noticed the changes, the facial line...

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“Mystics, Mythical Tavern ” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #67

Mystics, Mythical Tavern “Captain Hook, Peter Pan, Jack, and his magic beans, all legendary, yes! but what about Captain Monsieur Sebastian?” “You will have to excuse my ignorance about mythical figures who are ranked in the annals of mystic persuasions, by those who know I assume, but I have never heard of a Captain Sebastian. If you would be so good as to enlighten me, I’d be most appreciative.” “If you have never heard of Monsieur Sebastian, I can’t help but wonder which pumpkin patch you are from. I assume you’ve heard of ...

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“Two of Those” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #67

Two of Those Please “I’ll have…” “They aren’t fattening you know.” “I, didn’t know!  But then, I don’t know what goes on here.” When Win Pegasus landed on Quagmire, I should say crashed on our little planet, he claimed to have done so by accident, but then he was more than a little confused. I asked him how he could have crashed by accident and he really didn’t have a believable answer, or so it seemed, but then our translation system hasn’t been updated in quite some time. It has a tendency to rearrange the words in dyslexic f...

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“It Ain't Dark Yet” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #67

                            It’s Ain't Dark Yet  “It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there,” a lyric that invokes varying images, but it caused me to think of where we are as a people, a country. Just using the term people, magnifies for me, the differences as opposed to the similarities we share. When we agree with someone, or a groups ideology, we accept that generally we are sim...

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“Moon Cut” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #67

Moon Cut He wiped the bloody blade on his shirttail. She watched from the keyhole, afraid to breathe for fear of being found out. She felt her heart beating through her night shirt, droplets of fear seeping from beneath her head band, and closed her eyes. She had watched him drag the body, or what she imagined a body, wrapped in the curtain he’d taken from the window. He opened the rear doorway to the exterior staircase and disappeared. She listened to the plodding steps grow faint.  She opened her eyes once again an...

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“Does It?” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #66

Does It? “It always comes down to this. I know it does because he makes the rules. If he didn’t, what chance would he have? You see, finding your way out of a conundrum, you have to either cheat them, or they cheat you, as I see it. Watching someone you’ve known for a long time, seeing them slip, sometimes fall, time and time again, knowing there is nothing you can do is… well there’s nothing worse. Let’s leave it at that. I should explain the conundrum, more a dichotomy of choices I suppose. What’s in a name, tit...

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“Mellow Yellow” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #66

Mellow Yellow When I first heard the words, I felt as though the fog had lifted and I found myself staring at the reality of my future. I had feared the advance of time and therefore the future, primarily because it couldn’t be predicted with any certainty that is. Uncertainty frightened me because I was rooted in the environment of Christianity. The mystery, as well as both the promise of salvation and, or the gamble that the devil was seated across from me on my bus ride to school, followed me like perspiration in an eleva...

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“Salt and Pepper” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #66

Billy Joel Salt and Pepper    Having given up on life, humanity, because of its precipitous disdain for lost souls, he found himself once again stranded. Hitching was not what it once was, but then, what was. Nothing remains the same for a reason, he argued with himself, a means of distraction, as he continued his lonely existence on the outskirts of someplace along the route known as, the Coast Highway.     Billy Joel believed there was opportunity everywhere he had not looked, and was convince...

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“Good for Nothing” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #66

           Good For Nothing “Come down from there you fool.” “I’m not a fool. I’m prognostic.” “Do you even know what prognostic means?” “Listen, I’ve been around a while and It doesn’t matter if I know what something means or not. Sometimes, most times, better if I don’t know. Making things up, has more upsides than down. Ever tell you about Harry Holden. He was quite the character. He believed the truth was the absence of a lie. I tried to talk him ...

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“A Play, On Words” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #65

                A Play, On Words  Camilla: “It was a dark and rainy night, or would stormy work better?” “You aren’t planning on using that tired old cliché to begin with, are you? Our play is supposed to be about peoples ideologies and relationships, and we ain’t the Walton’s, if you know what I mean.” “What you all laughing at. I know who the Walton’s were. They lived on the lane, just down the road from the old hanging ...

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“Stereotypical Introspection” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #65

Stereotypical Introspection “Howard!” “What?” “You going out tonight?” “NO!” “Why not?” They ask the same question every year, and I give them the same answer. What is so special about this one night? Does one day or night, a week, month, year, century, really make a difference, after you are dead? Faces change, people fear differing things, but fear doesn’t drastically change the emotion elicited, or the reaction invoked. Take Jeremy for instance. He is one of those wanting to know, why I don’t care about going out tonigh...

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