Naked Sunfish - New Issue out today

Issue # 59 of Naked Sunfish is on virtual newsstands EVERYWHERE!!


This may be our biggest issue yet with the poetry of Dennis Toth, Ted Kane, Rick Brown, & Dr. John Bennett!!


Artwork by C. Merhl Bennett, Morris Jackson and Jessy Kendall!!


Fiction by Elisa Phillips and Shawn Gaines!! Non fiction by Rick Brown!! Comics by Sue Lense and Ray Tomczak!!



Political commentary by professor emeritus and theologian Dr. Carl Skrade!!! Go to Cupcake Camp with Emily Glenn and Jim Eaton!! The Fat Mule restaurant review!!




Travel!! Theater reviews by Rick Brown!! The Naked Sunfish Interview with rock icon Country Joe McDonald!! Music!! You'll laugh!! You'll cry!! Check it out!! Bookmark it...it's HUGE!!!!!!

Bees

I wrote this based on the CCC challenge words, made some edits, and am posting it here. This is the first time I composed a poem electronically and not on paper. Normally I write my poems out long hand. This one was composed in Evernote. It worked. I am not sure it will always work.

Bees


Sitting back on my sit-bones,
like a balanced butternut squash,
the seeds at my center, waiting,
anxious for childbearing, for the
promise of the coming blossoms.

A honeybee travels slowly,
zigzagging, not noticing
the gentle breeze, delicately visiting
blossom after blossom, knowing
the best welcome is without a hammer.

Invincible is the wind, on which he flies.

Creamy velvet sugar, the perfect top hat
on the rich cupcake. Ants marching, across
the counter, fanatic and hungry for gooey
sweetness. Sticky fingers of a child
swoop down, like a crane and steal
the prize, leaving a trail for them to follow.

Pine Boxes

Pine Boxes.

“Don’t need nothin’ more than a plain ole pine box to meet your maker. We all be naked at them gates, Janey Girl.”

Papaw built pine boxes. For Christmas one year he made me a small pine box for under my pillow. For my worries.

The next year a bigger one for my night table. The older a person gets means the bigger the worries. I decided I didn’t wants to get too old, ‘cause the pine boxes Papaw made for old Mr. Fellows were always man sized. ‘Magine all the worries you could fit in there.

“He be coming Janey—you best be getting on now.”

Mrs. Hubbard always said, “He be coming.” Only I don’t know who he is. Her hair was white like Christmas snow. She always wore her black button-up sweater backwards. Everybody said she was crazy. My mama told me once never to point and whisper.

“Be bad manners Janey-girl.”

I wondered if “bad manners” and “He” had any connection.

“Janey-girl – He be coming for sure--this time. Feels it in my bones.” Mrs. Hubbard wheezed as she swept the snow off the walk.

I nodded.

I still didn’t know who “He” was and settled for myself it’d be bad manners to ask.

The next morning I rode into town with Papaw, a pine box, fresh and pale, in the bed of his old Ford. We pulled up in front of Mrs. Hubbad’s. Boot prints matting down the snow on her walk.

“He came for her Janey-girl. Her maker came for her last night.”

I look at the pine box. I guess once “He” arrives you’s gots no more worries to carry about.

I stayed in the truck.

Glad my worries still fit in the small pine box, clutched tightly in my hands.

Something Fun

Through Twitter I learned about this lovely and addictive (seriously) blog. If you are serious about writing or really just want to improve upon your game, I suggest you check this out. It is also really fun, if you are a geeky writer type!

Thus far I have written a poem and a story. The story is posted on the site and I am making it my Spring contribution to the Naked Sunfish. Tomorrow I am going to write another story.

Anyway - swing over there and check out all the great stories and the writers who are challenging themselves.