Midgets
by Stephen Jarrell Williams
Out in the park trees, night pushing down cold,
the giant on his back, hairy naked, immune.
He's ten stories high as he stands:
the treetops to his knees, he pees,
yawns, stretches, as I sit in my truck
paralyzed, freezing in my long-johns and blanket.
He looks out over the city. I'm a speck.
He knows he's the first to come back...
He bends over and pulls a club from his grave,
grunts, straightens, pounds the club once
on the street, in front of my truck.
He lumbers past me, grumbling
something about midgets....
© 2009 Stephen Jarrell Williams
Stephen Jarrell Williams has done everything from
mowing lawns to being an executive at a software company. His poetry
and short stories have appeared in over a hundred publications. He
loves to write, listen to his music, and dance late into the night.
Find more by Stephen Jarrell Williams in the Author Index.
Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum
Return to Aphelion's Index page.
|
