A hooker with the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians tattooed on her side.
Four hundred thirty six Crown Royal bags.
How much I hate stuffed olives.
Not dating Jane Fonda.
Ted Bundy’s last meal.
Arguing from design using a cockroach.
God being ambidextrous.
The never ending generosity of drinkers trying to pick up women in a bar.
A billboard: “My gastric sleeve changed my life.”
George Sanders’ suicide note, beginning “Dear World” and ending “Good Luck!”
The girl I fucked in High School who became a mortician.
Hubie Houston USN (Ret.)–the first man to fire a rocket from a plane.
Contracting food poisoning from bad manna.
The serpent’s side of the story.
Using a fly swatter as a swizzle stick.
On the plus side:
never throwing gum in a urinal.
Visiting Hollywood Forever Cemetery: Peter Lorre in a sliding drawer.
A man at the Salvation Army swimming pool telling me this is the best day of his life.
Screwing my wife and having her say: “Just finish your business.”
Passing out in the Seat of Scoffers.
Memory being an identikit.
Remembering too much.
Not forgetting enough.
Getting off with a warning.
by G. Geis
D.G. Geis divides his time between Houston and the Hill Country of Central Texas. He has an undergraduate degree in English Literature from the University of Houston and a graduate degree in philosophy from California State University. His poetry has appeared in 491 Magazine, Lost Coast, Blue Bonnet Review and is forthcoming in the November/December issue of The Broadkill Review.
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