The Composite
by Sandy Hiortdahl
Half-reeking Frankenstein composite,
stumbling through the orchard at dinnertime
grabs an apple and flings it headlong
against the wall of Disrepair–
then, going to the wall, scales it to see
a hundred-foot drop into boiling waves,
wishes himself Nemo composite,
sleek gills swimming through anemone:
then spies the patented dorsal fin, sees
tentacles floating outward from it, catfish
whiskers sly around the shark grin,
and knows himself not alone
Dr. Inez Fung
Weather Events and Climate: Dr. Inez Fung speaks at Oakland’s Chabot Space and Science Center
Foggy Dawn
I love these foggy dawns of
spring and early summer:
mornings of limited visibility,
muffled sounds, water
coating every surface.
These are quiet mornings,
made for contemplation,
self-reflection.
I do not need to deeply analyze
to know these are mornings of:
certain limited sadness,
unfulfilled expectations,
intentions set-aside,
uncompleted lives,
lost causes
However, they are mornings of
promise still, if not for me,
then perhaps for you.
Blood Money
At nine in the morning on any Saturday, my neighborhood is quiet. I can hear the traffic from the major intersections, but no cars come down my street. All the hookers left the streets at dawn. The cops made their rounds long ago, to quiet down the late-night partyers. The pit-bull puppy from down the street that’s already mean because his owner thinks it’s tough to have a growling dog at his side, even he, is still sleeping. I am left alone to walk the few blocks to the plasma center. The sound of each step echoes in the silence and makes me think about the current state of my life. I’m thirty years old but most people place me around forty-five. It’s the prematurely grey hair – or maybe it’s the drug abuse and alcoholism, from my younger years, starting to show on my face. I still indulge, but not at the reckless level of days gone by; now I smoke and drink with all the respectability of a married father of two. Each wrinkle or bag under my eyes tells a story like a line on the inside of a tree tells its age. I live with my wife’s family and have two kids but no job. I start to think that leaving my temp job wasn’t the best plan.