Goblin Market Part VI

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

Everyone moved slowly at the Rapid City Diner

The bar tender wiped the countertop with a wet rag

leaving streaks of damp

that did not dematerialize in the heavy air

You know there is never a girl in these stories.

 

I know, Sam accepted the home brew

With appreciation born of deprivation

I thought it would be more sincere

With the girl

The beer foamed over the mug

Sam wiped his mouth and laughed

 

More often the RV residents tried to walk the rest of the way

fallen along the high mountain roads

Bring Out Your Dead she whispered

 

They wintered in airplanes

That’s what Sam liked to call it – wintering.

The sky was so fierce that she named it the time

of the abandoned gods

The travel gods, the train gods, the grass and growing gods

Those hide underground.

Like snakes Sam said.

 

Of course they weren’t the only ones in line for the planes

A big woman with wild hair in row 16 asked about her.

Daughter?

No, a rescue.  Ah, sleeping with her?

Sam shook his head.

The woman eyed the slender girl.  She was old enough.

Sam looked at the sky instead of the wild hair

I am not tempting her gods.

So he and the woman went in the back.

 

Vision of the street. As the street hardly knows.

He called himself the Drummer

since that’s where the first terror gang found him

what were the choices?

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