Bud Devore

featured in the poetry forum August 30, 2020  :: 0 comments

Standing there in his bib overalls
In front of the corner store,
Drinking soda, unshaven and shabby,
Stood the man named Bud Devore.

He worked at Brown’s store for soda,
And maybe a little loose change,
Sometimes he talked with the customers,
Most of them thought him quite strange.

He walked down the alleyways humming,
He fixed up old radios,
Where he learned electronics,
Only the good LORD knows.

I interpreted for him sometimes,
His speech hard to understand,
Rheumatic Fever afflicted boy,
Speech defective man.

His brother gave him a walrus tooth,
Then his brother moved away.
Bud was proud of the walrus tooth,
He showed it off every day.

Nobody could beat him in checkers,
At least, nobody in town.
He took on all comers in his old shed,
Until very few came around.

It seemed Bud was around forever,
Though he eventually faded away,
But he is still standing in front of Brown’s store,
When he crosses my mind today.

editors note:

We all have such ghosts, remembered as place is passed. (We welcome Bruce to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

The Chryslersaurus

July 25, 2020  :: 0 comments

If inanimate objects could talk, imagine the stories that would be told. When I was going to nursing school to become an RN and avoid starving to death, I bought a 1970 Chrysler. It was 28 years old when I bought it. It was a huge car. It burned a lot of gas and the heater didn’t always work as …

Record Turd

February 1, 2020  :: 0 comments

1. I would like to tell you a story that usually is not appreciated much when I have told it to others throughout the years. The kind of humor that many of us appreciated back in those days is pretty much extinct. At the time of this story, there was a soybean processing plant just outside of a very small …

Chesterfield

September 28, 2019  :: 0 comments

Chet sat on the edge of the courthouse lawn. He was a thin black man. He wore khaki slacks and a green t-shirt and had a fedora hat on his head. It had cooled off a little now that the sun was going down, but it was still hot. Chet took a drink from a half pint bottle of Jim …

1969

April 20, 2019  :: 0 comments

Jim looked out of his upstairs apartment window. He watched as a drunken man staggered up to the door of the Bus Cafe. It was late. No doubt after a night of drinking he was going for a burger and fries, or some greasy chili. Jim and his wife Brenda rented one of two apartments that were above the New …

On our way

featured in the poetry forum March 20, 2019  :: 0 comments

Back from the coal mine,
51 International truck,
Dad shifting gears
As we leave the mine,
Speed barely picking up.
We head down a two-lane highway,
Back the same way
We had come.
Animals on the radio,
House of the Rising Sun.
Load of coal
In the pickup,
Winter nowhere near done.

editors note:

Roadside reminiscence to keep the heat on. – mh clay

Exactly

November 10, 2018  :: 0 comments

Justin enjoyed his daily walks. A lot of people jogged or ran for exercise, but for him, a long walk was not only good for his health, but also relaxing. He could look around at the world he lived in and get a feel for what was going on in it. An unhurried look at his surroundings. His walks also …

They Came

July 21, 2018  :: 0 comments

He knew most of the people who had been killed. Except for one guy who was known for his piss poor treatment of anyone that crossed his path, Terry could think of no explanation for most of the murders. It seemed to be senseless. People run over by cars, stabbed, shot, or strangled. Old lady Johnson, who was a happy …

The Fates

May 26, 2018  :: 0 comments

As I looked out the window, leaves were randomly floating to the ground. It was their destiny from the time they were formed on the trees in the Spring to lie scattered on the lawn this Fall. It had been my destiny to go to war, survive, get married, raise two kids, and become divorced. Now this… My thoughts drifted …

Infinite Road

featured in the poetry forum December 27, 2017  :: 0 comments

To almost know is nothing,
Mystery still unsolved,
Contemplation complicated,
Still so much unknown.
Mystery so magical,
Journey without end,
Sweet, sweet inspiration,
Almost takes you there,
To the destination
Of your quest to know,
The answer that evades you,
As you navigate
This never-ending road.

editors note:

It’s the questions which derail us and re-trail us. Does seem like forever, doesn’t it? – mh clay