A hooker with the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians tattooed on her side.

Four hundred thirty six Crown Royal bags.

How much I hate stuffed olives.

Not dating Jane Fonda.

Ted Bundy’s last meal.

Arguing from design using a cockroach.

God being ambidextrous.

The never ending generosity of drinkers trying to pick up women in a bar.

A billboard: “My gastric sleeve changed my life.”

George Sanders’ suicide note, beginning “Dear World” and ending “Good Luck!”

The girl I fucked in High School who became a mortician.

Hubie Houston USN (Ret.)–the first man to fire a rocket from a plane.

Contracting food poisoning from bad manna.

The serpent’s side of the story.

Using a fly swatter as a swizzle stick.

On the plus side:
never throwing gum in a urinal.

Visiting Hollywood Forever Cemetery: Peter Lorre in a sliding drawer.

A man at the Salvation Army swimming pool telling me this is the best day of his life.

Screwing my wife and having her say: “Just finish your business.”

Passing out in the Seat of Scoffers.

Memory being an identikit.

Remembering too much.

Not forgetting enough.

 

Getting off with a warning.

 

by G. Geis

 

D.G. Geis divides his time between Houston and the Hill Country of Central Texas. He has an undergraduate degree in English Literature from the University of Houston and a graduate degree in philosophy from California State University. His poetry has appeared in 491 Magazine, Lost Coast, Blue Bonnet Review and is forthcoming in the November/December issue of The Broadkill Review.

 

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