Goblin Market Part V

By CBramkamp creative writing, Poetry Comments Off on Goblin Market Part V

100 miles per hour, Sam gloated stroking the dusty car hood

seven days of walking

accomplished in one hour, think of that.

 

Don’t you see?

At The Final Lounge

The woman of a certain age crowed

every wrinkle – gone!

Got them back when tanning was getting something done.

She pointed to the red stretched skin

blasted right away

I can’t stop looking at my face.

 

The center of the highway curved

over the bare horizon.

Shelters looked like casinos

Seven Feathers and a Squaw

 

The Drummer bragged –

Women loved me

he rolled his head, black hair flying

I was in the casino basement at the time

we thought it was a lame gig

 

You make music like I saw on TV.

The girl finally got up the courage to speak

 

Yeah, almost as good as fucking TV.

 

Deep in their bunkers, the easterners

snatched up random writers

as if Letter Men were wandering in packs

and only needed to be cut from the herd, and hauled underground

enough huddled in the dark and wrote for food and safety

From us it is the truth – DO NOT GO WEST

The survivors trudged through the sandy oily soil

And did not hear anything.

 

Packs of RVs, white land whales

Beached on their sides or backs, the attached furniture

Still serving a skewed purpose.

Yes, chortled the old man,

we had so much to eat

we needed a big cart to roll the food out of the store

a big car to take it all home

the refrigerators!  The electricity!

The girl saved Twinkies to exchange for his story:

 

People like us, the old man remembered

stranded on an island, season after season

The professor tried to make a boat

The cabin boy struggled to help

He made the others laugh.

The movie star was very pretty.

 

Sam considered her notes.  I don’t think that’s a legend

She finished writing with a flourish

It is now.

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