J’ai Perdue
J’ai perdue mon esprit.
Quelque part en espace.
Je recherche et je recherche...
Et je recherche encore.
Mais c’est perdu.
Une étoile a mon esprit maintenant.
Elle pense que c’est un objet étrange.
Un fabriqué vieile ce vient de la terre.
Oh well, she can have it.
I Have Lost
I have lost my mind.
Somewhere in space.
I look and look...
And look again.
But it’s lost.
A star has my mind now.
She thinks that it’s a strange object.
An artifact that comes from the Earth.
Oh well, she can have it.
-ED
The Publisher Has My Manuscript
“Man. I can’t believe I did that.”
“You did well, you know that.” Poe shoves the half-empty beer towards my fingers.
“That took a shit-ton of time to write. It’s nerve-wracking.”
“I sold The Raven for fifty bucks, you’ll be okay.”
I choke on air as I fake laugh, “but I didn’t write anything remarkably fascinating. I didn’t shove dead people underneath floor boards.”
Poe holds my hand upon the mahogany bar, “but you don’t have to shove dead people underneath floor boards. If you did, people would just think you’re my copy cat.”
“Can I be?” I smirk at the man with dark eyes.
“Oh come on, you wrote an exceptional book. The publisher will love it. You wrote about you from your perspective. I never could. I always hid behind a story.”
I chug the golden beer and swallow a burp back. “You’re right. I didn’t hide behind any bells. Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime,” he sips on some whiskey. His reflection in the bar mirror stares back at his sullen face.
Written by,
E.S. Danon
#Poe
Purple- Oh Dear
Dear Dr. doctor,
It is with my greatest pleasure to inform you that I am certainly dead. The visits and hospital stays have been sensational, but with a sad adieu- I must put an end to our awful tryst. To be in half honesty, I have been crying purple tears this whole time, and you mis-diagnosed me as crying with green tears. So I’ve died because the green tear pills do not fix the purple tear pills. It is not your fault that you are color blind. But is every centimeter of my fault that I have cried purple instead of green.
Do tell your wife I said hello. I fancy that the children are continuing to be well on vacation.
Yours truly,
I should not have told you that I was crying purple even though I was crying purple.
Oh Dear. I will miss the mail man.
The Moment
Fire lives within these veins of melted gold. Feathers flicker in a serphantine dance. Yes, Earth angels exist. This joy comes from healing the bruised and fallen soldiers of life. Holding a Starbucks grande iced coffee with cream and classic sugar, I hold open a door for some passerby. I smile. Shades hide my almond eyes. Speaking of, I’m meant to be like an almond joy. One bite, and happiness expands outward as the sun explodes. A super nova. The ice cubes in my plastic concubine align as caffeine realization sparks my epiphany. Earth angels exist.
-ED
The Commute
Mr. Crab, have you had a long day at work?
Have you missed your current? The bus back down to the bottom?
Oh- Mr. Crab, I see your blue twill suit and red tie. You seem disturbed. Stressed.
Floating around the top of this crystal clear turquoise water shining in the shimmer of manmade lights.
I can't see the bottom? Can you?
It's late, Mr. Crab. Almost midnight.
Won't the kids be crying, the wife gone mad?
It's a long way down yet, to the bottom. To the sand that you call home.
I do hope you catch your current, I see you struggle.
One... two... three...
Good, Mr. Crab, you're on your way down.
I do hope you make it home soon, this area isn't safe.
Two barracudas just swam by, keep your wallet held tight.
Distance
You left me~
Just like the sea breeze~
Once here~
The next in the air~
I can't help but wonder~
Will you remember- the
way we held each other?
Will you remember- the
laughs, smiles, and all that
in between?
Just as we were~
Just as we are now.
Silence. Anticipation.
Will you call? Will you~
Remember?
Wind, the extinguisher
or the igniter of fresh love.
Which will it be?
Judgement In Sickness
Sick in the head?
Rather that than dead.
No work, no money.
No health, no work.
No money, no health.
Laziness is the facade,
Real pain is the truth.
All of them assume I'm
Fabricating my aches.
Just paranoia in my head,
I'm sicker than a lonely dog,
Out of work, no money, no money,
Rather that than be dead.