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Drinks@the Last Cafe Chapter 4

Gears and clock image for Drinks@the Last Cafe
IV
 
 
The Preacher danced on the graves of the wicked
the wicked! The wicked did perish! 
I told you so! 
 
All the voiceless women  
she whispered 
the stoned, the burned, the buried, the raped
he danced and danced spinning
like another religion
 
the girl drew up taller than before   
the ground shifted  
the preacher stumbled
Sam threw out a warning arm  
she stood solid while the earth tipped
 
The wicked.
the Preacher fell into the dust and rocks
how do you know the wicked?
because they are gone! 
the howl danced from his lips
lost in a train whistle
 
The cars were surround by skeletons with long fingered hands
Mad Max meets O. Henry  
Sam hefted a full tin of gas
we need a worthy receptacle
it took hours until they found a sports car
slung low, fast he promised  
 
It roared to life  
she clutched the seat  
the window screaming like the demons from hell
she never moved this fast.
Sam yelled straight from his soul
careening over the flat white desert
in a more or less straight line.
sound trailed behind them
 – 100 miles an hour for just that long
 
Her heart was forever damaged by all that speed  
do it again
 
Ketchup bottles red as the setting sun
the old waitress served them ketchup
and roadkill
specialty of the house
@The Last Café on Earth
I was in the meat freezer
always hated to go in.
of course I was trapped for like 97 hours
all that cold meat
 
her nametag read Fran not her real name –
just the name left
she fingered her tight neck
pink scars growing up over her sharp chin.
tell me again about the Mother God  
 
Careless children,
the same who cracked Pandora’s box
unlocked Blue Beard’s last room
inspired the flood
the angry gods hunted and destroyed
 
but the Mother God patiently gathered body parts flung across the Nile  
reassembled into a better person missing
an eye, back of a heel, sometimes a hand
she watches over us
the girl concluded.
 
The waitress sighed
Sam rolled his eyes
 
Happy National Poetry Month!
 
This is one of eight chapters of Drinks @ the Last Cafe.
 
You can get a complimentary copy of the entire poem by leaving a helpful review for my new book, Deep Trouble
 
Notify me when you’ve posted the review – cbramkamp (at) gmail (dot) com and I will send you the ebook version along with my sincere thanks.
 
Thank you!

CatharineBramkamp

Catharine Bramkamp is a successful writing coach and author. She has published over 300 newspaper and magazine articles in publications like Modern Maturity (AARP), SF Chronicle and Santa Rosa Magazine. She was a contributor to two Chicken Soup Books and has published anthologies of her work, non-fiction works and novels. Her work has also appeared in a number of poetry and fiction anthologies. She has experimented with the self-publishing world since 2001. She has published and self-published seven books through companies like Author House, author assist companies like 3L Publishing and through traditional publishers like Write Life. Her poetry collection, Ammonia Sunrise, will be released in August 2011 by Finishing Line Press and her mystery novel, In Good Faith will be released by Write Life in 2011. Catharine holds a BA in English from UCSB and a MA in English from Sonoma State University. She is a 25 year member of California Writer’s Club. She is an adjunct professor for the University of Phoenix. She works with authors of both fiction and non-fiction to make their dream of producing a book come true. For more information on that, visit her at www.YourBookStartsHere.com Catharine has lived in Sonoma County for 25 years and considers wine a food group. She is married to an adorable and very patient man who complains he’s never featured in any of her books. Her grown children who are featured in a few of her books have fled the county.

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