John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.
THAT PICKUP BAR ON THE WORLD WIDE WEB
Attention Miss, I am Cliff- that's with a C from the east side and also an up and comer in a Fortune 500 company and not one of those who denies the evil of the late Gaddafi the Libya leader who had coercion Libyan people to be under his regime... when average people survive with $2 per day. can I buy you a drink? no this is not a cheap pickup, I've been noticing you for some time and I find you both interesting and intriguing and did you know that Libya is the second oil producing country in the entire surface of this Earth but her citizens live in poorest condition according to international standard. I'm not the usual kind of guy you find in one of these meat markets - I'm genuine, reliable, sincere and I wonder if you could help me to keep the sum of SD$10,500,000.00 Million with you for my family as most of my house and assets is taken by Gaddafi loyalist when he was alive. Did anyone ever tell you that you have lovely eyes? And I really like what you do with your hair but in case anything happens to me I would like you to help me keep USD$ 10,500,000.00 which is hidden somewhere in Libya since I might not survive this situation's aftermath. If you're interested I know this quiet little French restaurant and we could... oh yes, and I have these two tickets to Jersey Boys and now my sister can't go and if you are serious to assist me I will review to you where the funds is deposited in my name so will you help me to transfer of the money and give back to my family when the right time comes really, I've no interest in any kind of one night stand and my mother's name is Rebecca but my father, Angelo was shot when he was alive but what you are to do is take 30% of this money for yourself and the other 60% for my family my car's outside if you'd like to go for a ride down by the beach and if you accept to help me please provide information on where this money were to be send and how you can pick up for all arrangement and process to transfer the money is ready. I promise you, no funny business and I know this is unconstitutional asking this favor from you but been a human being so consider Libyan people on this scenario . This is worst tragedy and inhuman treatment and infringement in people's life and freedom and with your immediate acceptance to help me I will update you in furtherance to get the money out from here. What's your name? Donna? I like that name and if you are interested please send your full names, direct telephone numbers, and physical address, more details will be given upon your reply. your quick response will be highly appreciated. Finally, If you are interested I will attached my Passport, and a picture of my mother. My mother's name is Rebecca I have a feeling she's really going to like you.
I saw the ad first - come see Florida strip naked before you, dip your frozen feet in her tides, your clammed-up features in the wind off her oceans. But I am a cynic from the far north. I don’t feel free. I am not thriving. The locals are cordial enough but I can’t find the esprit de corps to even be a fair-weather friend. What about the women, you might say. But I haven’t seen one yet who feels like she could shelter me, bear the children in my life. And despite the shade of cypress trees and live oaks, I’m burning from this redness of the skin. It was the cramped boat trip into the dark swamp waters that did me in. We were packed like breasts in a bikini, the wildlife stayed well clear of us and the children screamed like parrots. That’s Florida: a mishmash of heat, failed promises, and insects that leave some large red calling cards. Yes, there’s a few who have lived here all their lives. but I dare you to find one. No, this is an end destination in the same way that death is. I’m now a patient in this condom-shaped hospital ward in the sun. Sure I can toss away my shoes and socks, go about bare feet and in sandals. But I keep my best suit handy. I’ll need it to be buried in.
Big, small, guys, girls, some rush, some straggle, much pushing, hair-pulling, some yelling, others cussing, one or two with heads bowed not saying a thing, some thinking they’re really important. others shying away - they plop down in chairs far away from the others, or squeeze in where they’re not wanted. or demand some poor kid move so they can take his seat, lots of jostling, complaining, elbow jabbing and snarling - the lesson for today is astronomy, how all things co-exist in the universe.