She appeared as an anemic ghost,
tapered A-frame dress with horizontal
black-and-white stripes, which threw off her frame
quite a bit. It was an appropriate fit
The neighborhood boys waited at the curb
in an old gray Chevy, hungry for details with what I’d do
once I fumbled
with my right hand to stick the key in the lock.
Little did they know that what mattered was what she planned
to do to me, stooping down into the dirt,
lifting her dress
so that the horizontal stripes turned themselves up
toward the sky.
She mumbled the entire time, biting her bottom lip
every tenth word or so and pointed to a gift
that she’d left on the patio table.
I was afraid to touch it.
The plastic bag of groceries in my left hand needed a bit
of attention but no one offered
to help. They never do.
The house had been shut up
for three weeks and needed open windows.
That’s one of the things ghosts can do – suck
out the air in a room, leaving it empty
like an old nun’s womb.
It was fit for prayer
John Dorroh (JD) attempted to teach high school science for more years than he cares to admit, and maybe some of the lab chemicals affected his brain? He likes to travel, cook, bike, write, and play yard games. To his credit there is a book of micro-fiction (“99 Words”), about 30 science diddies (who reads those, right?), and a sprinkling of poems in Dime Show Review, Walk Write-Up, Haiku Journal, and Poetry Breakfast.