Friday, September 13, 2013

new fun flash fiction up for da weekend ...

This is an awesome fun piece that most of you will be seeing for the first time. This piece of flash fiction was published in the Summer 2011 edition of 5X5, a wonderfully small publication full of tight, dynamic fiction.

You Are Such a Poem

By Lis Anna

Drunk again, unruly. The smell of gin is thick on your tongue in the courtyard where you have been intoxicated for three days straight obsessing over dirty stanzas, your stubbily rhyme, your greasy meter. Words make nuisance of you.

 Sunset and evening star and here you are still in your bathrobe missing its belt, haggardly threadbare around the collar. You are such a poem. You have been sipping too much metaphor today, if such a thing can be true. All of your oranges are Japanese sunrises, skin the bark of maple trees, days line up in circles of infinity. You are testy, refusing to allow even a single sentence to be constructed until someone makes you a martini, dirty and wet.

Slovenly, you smoke, cuss. You are always unemployed, drinking straight from the box of golden Chablis. You are such a poem. Yet, you are so much of what the world strives to be. We want to know what its like to be you. Bumming smokes and borrowing money
to buy deviled eggs and plastic chaise lounges from the Dollar Bin that you call new chic faux antique.

And yet most days you are just like all of the others, unrequited, broken hearted, memories formed on pages in the quiet repose of morning light instructing laymen on the art of feeling.  You see, I wanted you to be an Italian Renaissance painter, a big lipped movie star, an abandoned house deep in Alabama or at the very least an underwater volcano. But instead, I got you. A drunk who refuses to go to meetings, will not cooperate with prose, picks fights with biography and constantly scoffs at nonfiction,
claiming there isn’t such a thing as fiction that is not fiction.

You pee outside, howl at the moon, and scratch in unmentionable places.

And yet, I cannot remember a life before you showed up promising to pay rent someday.
 It must have been unremarkable. Filled with scheduled mealtimes, stacks of newspapers towering on the floor, fresh bed linens and plastic organizers on my desk. Now the clocks have all been thrown away, newspapers shredded, bed linens are worn as capes and I shudder to consider the fate of those organizers.

So, now when I find you outside drunk, wearing a brown wig and frightfully tight purple underwear, I pull up a new chic faux antique, pour you a dirty, wet, triple olive and offer up my attention in the hopes that if I flirt enough with the edges of your sensibility
then you just might pick your teeth and tell me a story.

You can purchase this edition here:

or check out 5X5 here because it is AWESOME, baby.

copyright 2011 (c) Lis Anna All rights reserved

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