From the Mind: Poetry and Prose

Taking a Break Behind the Building of My Photo Ops


It’s cold, he shivers, struggling to find warmth in the February air.
Huddled in the corner he looks over his shoulder,
eyes darting around the leaf covered patio.
He knows better, he has an image to maintain
but the weight of performance leaves him numb,
and this is his only escape.

He digs into his pocket and grabs his pack, about half are left.
His friends don’t know, they think he quit,
but it’s the only thing that makes him him.

He tabs the tobacco on his hand, lights, and hits,
letting the smoke fill his lungs.
He exhales, eyes closed,
meditating on the idea of a well-deserved nap.
When he comes down, he inhales again,
chasing after the feeling that is long lost.

It’s passed and the ashes are shaken away,
leaving him unsatisfied.
Gripping, clinging, lips pressed against the filter again,
he inhales until the colors of his mind change from black to blue,
and the waves subside and the chatter quits.
Trapped, forced into the most perfect moment.

“I need to stop this.” He exhales, shaking the ash from his bud.

“Clint, they’re done.” The tech hand shouts, from behind the cover of the cracked door.

“Okay.” Rushed, he kills the light, tucking it back into his pocket. Thirty minutes until show time, six hours until the flight lands, one-hundred and sixty-one hours of filming, endless weekends of tours, forty-three months left on the contract. “I’m finished,” he whispers, but there is no one around to hear him.


Pet Your Cat Like Today is Their Last Day


A cat died today, and it was not her death that was profound to me, but the fact that I had petted her only a few hours before. Just this morning I was walking by and saying hi, checking to see if she pooped out of the litter box. I fretted, and problem solved and decided a plan. I placed it into action and reset and moved on. I wonder though if she knew. If she knew that today was her last day what would she do? What would you do? What would I do? I wondered if I could go back in time with the knowledge that I know now would I try to stop them from taking her. Would I have pet her more, told her I loved her? There was no last meal, no goodbye, just a message from my boss and she was gone. Never to be heard, purred, cuddled again. So young. I wonder if her owners knew perhaps maybe they’d let her stay or perhaps there was nothing stopping this fate and today was her day. Her last day on Earth and I wonder if there was anything I could have done to make it better.


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