r i g h t  h a n d  p o i n t i n g

short fiction  short poetry  short commentary  short...uh..art
 

 

     
  Ed Pavlic

Deposition of the Corn-Toed E.R. Intern

 

 
If I’m half a man on percodan   I was there
the night they brought him in   ankles
broken   high & empty   lowdown
with four pages torn from “Chaos
in Poetry”   tranquil & tight
lipped as Lawrence painting his umbrella :
sky blue & mirror image of an empty
seat in Falchetto’s Bugatti

repeated   man knows there’s something
wrong   man knows there is something wrong
said he stalked the park with the damned
nickel colored trumpet   said a
b-flat in Dorian sails thru
winter trees   eighth rest caught the break
in a limb   branch to fork   fork to
sprout   elm to the neural heart   oak

to open vein-trees in the brain
fools boxed-in   red corners in each
eye   bled pale & dry from inside
cursed the snare lick :   that drum machine’s
white!   said if he could just go fix
his own Ferrari   & not crack
it up   he’d live on a desert
island   pave him one snake-hipped road

 

 

 

 

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