Friday, 6 December 2013




DICK – Tom, when the little hand is in yer mouth, and the big hand is up yer bum, what time is it?

TOM -  Half past six?

DICK – Fucking numpty.  No Tom, it’s not half past six.  Try again.

TOM – Twenty past twenty two?

DICK – For fuck’s sake Tom.  Poemy time!  It’s poemy time!  And we got a brand new, never been out the wrapper, 100% full of words, poem.

TOM – But the thing is what I don’t understand is why is yer big hand up yer bum?

DICK – Just the one thing you don’t understand then, eh?

TOM – Yeah, but …

DICK – Just push some buttons, or wind-up some keys, or plug yer self into the matrix, or whatever it is that you do, but make it happen.



            Lunch Break by Holly Day


I can only imagine why he takes so long
To return from the bathroom every day at lunch, picture
Him straddling the toilet, left arm stretched out in supplication to some
Drug god like I've seen on television, needle
Dangling precariously from the vein it's rooted in
His eyes rolled back in his head in delirious orgasm

Or maybe it's some official religious thing, not a heroin-based religion at all
He's kneeling before the stand of urinals, facing some static
Compass point, dragging an ancient stone blade over his body
Tattooing new lines across his stomach
Piercing his tongue and ears with a practiced hand
That draws little blood. For all I know
He could be covered in chicken excrement from noon to twelve-fifteen
Every day, using his cigarette break to entreat his homeland gods.

All I know is that I will not continue to use my own lunch break
To answer his phone line, will not take orders from warehouse men
Redirected by the note on his door to ask for my help instead.
From now on, I am in an official state of meditation when his desk is empty.
I am sleepwalking, and am not to be disturbed.





Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis, Minnesota who teaches needlepoint classes for the Minneapolis school district and writing classes  at The Loft Literary Center. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Tampa Review, The Comstock Review, and the St. Paul Almanac,and she is the 2011 recipient of the Sam Ragan Poetry Prize from Barton
College. Her most recent published books are "Walking Twin Cities" and "Notenlesen für Dummies Das Pocketbuch."