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James Kowalczykwas born and raised in Brooklyn but now lives in Northern California with his wife, two daughters, four cats and twenty-eight fish. His work has been published both in print as well as online. He teaches English at the high school and college levels. Alnihaya eons ago, carved on giant slabs of stone the ancients spoke of this moment only the Harappans had had ears for the forbearers voice they alone were able to interpret this language said to hold the secrets of the universe generations of scholars, linguists, and anthropologists worldwide struggle to interpret these dateless blocks of granite this year a Harappan time traveler, partially interpreted the text “save yourselves before…” Concussive Distortion we are baptized in the thorny river of slaughtered souls Saint Stephen launches thousands of screaming angel crucified with piety inverted exile one can see but cannot be one self Snarky Ignorance 4:oo am eggs and coffee and out the door Junior the shoeshine man age sixty-five walks from Amsterdam Avenue to Lexington Avenue and catches the #4 to Grand Central Station his box concealed in a backpack along with expertise in handling Balmorals, Blüchurs, Cap Toes and Wingtips locating the subtle depression his box has made in the marble floor over the years he settles in the new snot-nose regular waiting for him “you’re late Junior” from behind The Wall Street Journal hiding a smirk like a teacher who secretly enjoys issuing detention slips “subway ain’t what it used to be” Junior remarks to the headlines “maybe we need Mussolini in this city make them run on time” “who?” Junior smiles and shakes his head Dialogue with Jethro school, who needs it look at me I haven't read a book in over thirty years I can't even read hardly at all and I'm doin' alright, oh God, I'm late but it's a holiday, you're working today? nobody else would, hell, I'm an expert at lifting heavy boxes onto trucks, I've been doing that kind of work since I graduated, I mean dropped out of high school say, are you married? have any kids? two, no three, sorry, forgot about junior how old? sixteen, no seventeen, and ah, sixteen, no fifteen, I'm... you going to the rally after work? hell yeah, I love the chanting "lock her up" it's like going to church church? yeah, it's like church the chorus singing with to the man upstairs...I mean our president wow Jesus was a Masochist hourly memories spread
across a second-hand tapestry of woes naked shame clothed in guilt his name and the daily joie de vie turns a sacred screw as viscous iron blood smelts fever’s night between the eyes it climbs a fence like caged ivy down vena cava lane with Joey Gentile and their digital pacifier charged with apocryphal bible belt bullshit in the south the rumor consumer piranha that squirt through a liftime of rocks in a stream of consciousness heading north
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