Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry

Not All That As Magazines Go




Reading a ‘high end’ magazine one day I got quite a surprise


You see originally


I had something else written and I thought it too risqué, I mean it invites contributions from readers so being conscientious is definitely the way, until I read a painfully long piece of prose about ankles, ankles in boots and I stopped reading, stunned, thinking, “That can’t be what they want… did this guy know someone…” they’re more reserved than this, call themselves upscale but maybe it’s underlying…


This should be acceptable then


My Father is dying, Dad, wasting away

Now at 125 he’s developed so much the doctors can’t keep track

He’d be on my unit if I were still in medical, Skilled Nursing, with a family of multiple train wrecks that in this short time typing these few words down to 100, maybe less

We stopped getting along a while ago, he couldn’t make me anymore and I thought, “What will I do when you’re not here for me to be mad at”

A crazy thought I guess born from impending loss could be

There can never be another, you’re one who’s unique, there’ll never be another you


And that made me think


It was that song you taught couples to sing at meetings to convince them they should stay married and for what

They found they don’t like each other anyway and they know, well they knew “I know I’ll never find another you”

Shouldn’t have found you in the first place – ha – mutual feelings setting one free

We, together, don’t want to find another you, each other, what are you doing here with me


Which was nothing like what counselors and clergy wanted anyone to think


But this is nothing like reading about ankles in boots

So if you’re not around who now, who will fill those shoes tell me who will it be to cause me to be taken aback though I shouldn’t be surprised

Who will others use to be better than who I portray, holier than me on any given day?

It’s been a long hard road this life we’ve had and I can’t get distance enough


The world’s just too small a place


But I know I’ll never come across someone like you in the most euphemistic way, you know polite sarcasm gone astray

If we weren’t so alike I’d be free but I’ll never find another you because a picture of you is a picture of me


“I never knew someone who hated a parent” I’d heard it said

Unnecessary to look inside myself I knew I’d never hated, knowledge so unfair, I could be surprised and hurt but not for one second was love ever gone, just not there

Nor for less than a second, a fraction so small, you might not have made it I’d thought, now that you’ve passed


But you never needed me


We don’t need anyone to make our journey you see the design was quite grand, is and always will be

I crossed the Plain of Lethe and drank deep from Mnemosyne

I knew I accepted

I was sent back by something greater than us both

Oh you know it’s said we choose the path

A creator of a masterful plan

Nothing mystical really, it had always been clear

No retrospect would inspire nor dictate another way

I know I am who I am and of that truth I will never let go



So they should’ve published my piece, no?