SILVER PARK ARTS LITERARY LOUNGE will resume ONLINE IN A PRIVATE ZOOM ROOM with featured readers: Chad Sweeney, Mary Torregrossa, Victoria Lynne McCoy, and Ruthie Marlenée. Surprise Guests in Open Reading. May 5, 2020, 8:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. Let’s do this thing. More DETAILS below BIOS. CHAD SWEENEY is the author of six booksContinue reading “SILVER PARK ARTS LITERARY LOUNGE JOIN US IN THE ZOOM ROOM 5/5/20”
Good Friday, always cloudy as Jesus hangs dying on the cross. I wonder now if tomorrow never came, would he still rise on Sunday? Would there be a second coming if the human species disappeared behind the clouds (except for the survival of the fittest, the survival of the richest)? But if the species wereContinue reading “GOOD FRIDAY iCLOUDS”
I listen to the rain falling steadily all night long – the caprice of the gods or the tears of angels? Raining it seems for 40 days and 40 nights or since the beginning of the Corona. Water gushes in from a crack in the ceiling. The community pool overflows. The tennis court is flooded.Continue reading “FLOOD IN THE TIME OF CORONA”
Dear (I’ll not give you power by speaking your name), My life is in ruins and you are to blame. You’re the excuse I give for not accomplishing my goals, the reason my book bombed before it soared. And it’s because of you, I’m so freakin’ bored. You’re the reason for my miscarriages, my financialContinue reading “FATTENING THE CURVES or DEAR YOU WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED”
He just kept staring at me like I was some sort of star – like I was Madonna, like he was a bigger fan than my mother.
“there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out…” ~~ Bluebird by Charles Bukowski ~~Acrylic Bluebird by Carla Bates well I’m weak andContinue reading “Bluebird for a Friend”
Feeling like an empty bag nowadays; skin crumpled up like a piece of paper. I have delivered a story—someone else’s child, the one I carried for almost nine months–to her mother. Had I known the pain of separation, perhaps I would not have taken on the role of surrogate writer (ghostwriter) in the first place.Continue reading “Surro-Ghost Writer”
Hopefully not sticking out under a house.