Lit-zine
JU
Senses
Genealogy
Let’s face it
I’m never going to be the tab A
that slips into your slot B
more the square peg to your round hole
—the slab of bacon
at your bat mitzvah
Oh we’ve had our moments
but it’s as if I left my heart in Sausalito
—always the wrong end of your golden gate
It’s probably my fault, fully
but I wouldn’t be convicted by a jury of your peers
there’s no smoking gun
Splitsville.
Vitamin Water
David Blaine,
the writer not the magician, lives and works with his family
in rural Michigan.
David has had poetry, prose, essays, reviews and interviews
published widely online, on air, and in print.
His last book of poems, Antisocial, was published in 2009 by Outsider Writers Press.
David is presently collecting stories best described as flash non-fiction.
You can sample these at
Tell Me Your Story.
David
Blaine
only a magic eight ball declaring
“It is decidedly so” and besides
all the incriminating hoof prints
came from the horse you rode in on
you don’t want me to be
the bull in your china shop
the fox in your hen house
or the tiger in your tank
and I’m not cut out to be
a Piccadilly
at your three-ring circus
I think it’s time I got outta Dodge
time you took a long walk
off a short pier
I think I hear your mother calling
“It is decidedly so.”