the house behind the river, part 1 - the director's cut

do

by timmy t jones

previously posted, in different format, in the blog all humans are the same on january 10, 2011

i'm sorry, ms sinclair there's no need to apologize, joey i was just doing what i do i understand it's what i do yes i have no choice of course i do what i do the doingness of the done the thing itself to do the thing that is imperative the imperative itself i told you i understand have you called the police? of course why else would i have handcuffed you? well to keep me from doing what i do no i called the police i had no choice i understand but you understand in turn the imperative doingness of what i do the done thing itself yes i think i hear the police outside now

5 poems

originally posted, in different format, on flashing by on march 19, 2010.

by horace p sternwall

pictures by rhoda

arabia arabia is far away and stretches out in every direction but though you cut it up every which way there's nothing but sand in every section borneo boom-ba-de-boom, ba-de-boom-boom-boom boom-ba-de-boom, ba-de-boom-boom-boom bury my heart in a golden tomb at the end of the earth, if there's any room china i want to go to china before i die to see if everything i was taught was a lie i'll pay some wise old sages a call we'll sit and talk, beside a waterfall winnebago weary waitresses and bored detectives fill the hallways with vile invective hotel down by the railroad tracks dead shoe salesmen never come back teddy i woke up this morning with a feeling of despair and looked around for my teddy bear but someone had slipped through the bars of my cell and carried poor teddy off to hell

carter

it was some kind of seminar. it was dark. all the presidents of the united states were there. on the second day there would be all the popes, and the day after that all the kings and queens of england. security was rigorous. security men in brown suits were everywhere. i found myself at a table with four other people - four faceless schmoes like myself, two men and two women. i realized there were five of us at a table for four and the others all seemed to know each other so i got up and tried to find someplace else to sit. i ended up sitting on the floor bedside the door. people were still pouring in, closely watched by the security men in their brown suits. but they were not frisking anybody or asking any questions. they had not frisked me or asked me any questions. the presidents of the united states were somewhere around, but i didn’t see any of them. finally the presentation began. the lights were not turned on. there was some kind of slide show, but from my seat on the floor beside the door i couldn’t see it. just a little bit of white light glancing off a screen. a voice said something about “carter” and everybody laughed. i didn’t know if they were talking about president jimmy carter or carter who made the little liver pills. ***