George T. Mormann

Tag: culture

The Beast

May the eldest
dog repose in
the middle road.
that it must live
on to serve my
devices, I
chase after the
dying thing.

On white lines
it passed sides.
On black knees
I hold it.
back-forth-back-forth, crying
we belong
to the past

May the eldest
dog repose in
the middle road.

This sufferable beast
with soft eyes that lull me
in motherly refrain.

Pleasured by all this
pain — I thought you would.

The corpse I am
shaking, stay alive for me!
The corpse I am
coddling, it will all be over soon.

May the eldest
dog reprose in
the middle road.

“Sweet Disasters of our Prophetic Youth”

Sweet like innocence and harmless play. Sweet as in awesome and gratuitous destruction. This story began as one of my text poems that I had sent to someone. It was a cousin of mine from a family that has since broken apart and no longer remains in touch with one another. As children, my cousin and I used to take armymen and action figures down to the creek in his yard and play war games and what not.

Word Count: 21.

                                               “Sweet Disasters of our Prophetic Youth”

                                                                By George T. Mormann

                                           Published in Issue 46 of Short, Fast, and Deadly

Short, Fast, and Deadly is a journal that publishes very very short fiction that does not exceed 420 characters in length. Littles bits of prose that packs a punch. Not to forget really short poetry, too.