Trina Makes Up Her Mind
Trina learned the power of ones and zeros from the
elephant God, Anjana.
Anjana took ones and zeros to make mice.
He taught Trina to use them to make minds.
Trina studied her mind for flaws; she trimmed it to
perfection.
When she finished, she used it to fly to New York.
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This is an entry for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #152–– 03 September, 2019
Rob Goldstein 2019
A Fresh God
Charlie lives in a comic book. Superman says
everything is his; he can have the Fortress
of Solitude. Flash of blue. Swamp gas. A fresh
God pinches cheek and says, “I’m crazy baby,
you better believe it.”
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© Rob Goldstein 2019
This is an entry for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #150 –– 20 August 2019
Photo by Felipe Ribeiro at Pexels.com
In this piece, a homeless vet writes to a friend. I used a composite of the stories I heard as a therapist who worked with homeless vets in San Francisco.
7/04/2012
Hey Kev
Thought I’d drop you a few lines since this week makes
five years since we left Iraq.I know you say you ain’t the same without ur leg but I hope
ur feeling better.I’ll feel hella better when I throw out these pills for crazies.
Why does the fuckin’ V.A. give me pills when I say I need food?
Why don’t shrinks know people go crazy from hunger?
My partner died of AIDS last year, so I got no one to talk to, so I
went to Reno last month.The ticket was a free one way, so I figured I’d go see family.
That was a big mistake.
My bitch of a sister wouldn’t let me meet my nephew ‘cause I came out gay.
Her Holy Roller husband kept sayin’ he’d shoot me for Jesus.
I told them to kiss my faggot ass!
I spent the rest of my money for a one way back to Frisco.
That’s life for uppity fags and burnt out war heroes.
I keep hoping you’ll send me a card so I know ur alive.
I’d call but I can’t buy a phone.
I get $300 a month General Assistance and it costs $200 for a week in a crap hotel, so’s I won’t have a place for the next three weeks, but please write to that address I sent anyways.
Please.
Love,
Zack
(c) Rob Goldstein 2018 – revised August 2019
I was under powerful witchcraft and hoped I was possessed.
I thought of little Reagan; the tricks he did with the crucifix.
He was light in the head and rose by circumstance.
Were I novelist, I’d have written a story, but instead I spun
and spewed garlic.
Judy asked if I was trying to vomit and I snarled, “No! I need a
fucking exorcist!”
Judy said what I really needed was a time out until I learned
to behave.
I’m starting to think Judy doesn’t love me.
The staff carried me off before I could levitate.
Rob Goldstein (c) 2017 All Rights Reserved
Note: Seclusion is a nursing intervention defined as the solitary containment of an agitated patient in a fully protective environment.
Art by Rob Goldstein 