The Poems of David Garlick
I’m only a mouse in the chocolate chip cookies but I make enough racket to awaken the dead. As I scrabble and scratch, gnawing and chewing. Which wakes up the people asleep in the bed. As I knock over drink cans, rattle the glasses, jangle a tea spoon or fall in the tub. […]
If we gathered all the monsters from the middle of the night. Put them in a glass jar, with the lid screwed tight. Would mom and dad sleep better? Would Sis and I be glad, that the monster in the cupboard was not able to be bad? But think of monsters mother, would she […]
He stood by the bar, elbows a-leaning, foot on the brass rail, beer in his hand. “Have a good day?” said the man chewing peanuts. “Yes good, had a great Daughters Day.” “What’s a daughters day mate?” Said the man with the peanuts. Carl was his name, if my memory serves. “A day with […]
My mother has a “Surger,” with lots of bobbins on it. It sits there slyly smiling in the bedroom down the hall. But I know it can be wicked, as it looks just like a spider, with it’s arms and legs all waiting for that moment to explore. I’ve a funny sort of feeling […]