by Holly Day He was parked in the lot at Thrifty’s Drug buck naked save for A big white cowboy hat and a pair of dark sunglasses he was Holding onto his erect penis and grinning proudly and happily like his penis Was a prize he had won as a…
SNHU online creative writing Posts
Note to Myself (After Tu Fu)
by George Freek When young I was carefree. I drank the strongest wines. I never touched tea. Mother you raised a fool. Now you are dead, and I am old. Reaching seventy, as stars sharp as scimitars spin like mad dervishes in the night, what good for me to scold?…
Fireflies
by Linda S. Swanberg Fredericksburg, Virginia (1953–1955) For “La” from “Ninna” In memory of Louise Swanberg, M.D. (1949–2014) firefly tips dazzle always out of reach hot breezes own Virginia nights I dream fireflies we mistake for stars all Fredericksburg asleep— town shut up, people gone home wide well of memory ripens…
In Imitation of Catullus
by George Freek The generations come and go with endless repetition, as spring flowers or winter snows. It’s something we all know. In a few hours I’ll be sitting with another woman, drinking wine, trying to make new memories to forget our past. Ave atque vale, dear wife. Perhaps it’s…
The Old Woman on the Bus
by Holly Day She is a character study of how old I could get if I just stopped smoking and drinking and got a good night’s sleep every once in a while, the old lady smiles at me from across the near-empty bus tells me she’s having another good day,…
Cat Poem (After Ou Yang Hsiu)
by George Freek My cat creeps carefully among spring flowers, over petunias and into jonquils, around budding hyacinths, confronting rising hollyhocks. He’s seeking new adventures in his garden universe, stepping amidst this bursting life, while he, poor fellow, grows older, day by day. If he could, would he wonder why…
Wanderlust
by Katherine Yoerg I only hope that in the end What lies before me is a desert road… The sun striking down and turning it gold Accompanied by my dearest friend On both sides of the veil The trail Doesn’t end Although on one side the memories rust And footsteps…
Sweet Potato Pie
by LuCretia Crump My oh My I cannot deny Just how much I love me Some sweet potato pie Not once Not twice But throughout the entire year Sweet potato pie brings me good cheer It’s so delicious to every bite When everyone is asleep I awake to steal more…
Reproductive Madness
by Laura Gardner I once had a doctor tell me that I had one hell of a big uterus. Coming from an OB/GYN I thought at first it was some sort of compliment. I was too caught up in the moment of birthing my ten and a half pound baby…
Sassafras
by Katherine Yoerg In a variety of colors, they sit in plastic bags, the days of youth arrayed with symbols of the times; Motorolas and Tulips, Versace and Mickey Mouse – beckoning you into the darkness, into the strobe lights, into the drum, bass, and luminescence of being up all…