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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “6 Feet Under” Down in the Dirt (v136) (the May 2016 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book A Stormy Beginning the Down in the Dirt Jan. - June 2016 collection book		get the 318 page Jan. - June 2016 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

I’m Sick of it All

Ruth Z. Deming

Finding the plumpest cherries
at the grocery store, the firmest
peaches, the freshest baby
spinach, then being asked if I
have my bonus card, and
carrying my canvas bag to
the car, windows wide open
to catch the summer breeze.

How I long to escape!
They’d miss me, certainly,
for a few months, and then
I’d be as forgotten as the
red and gold maple leaf
in its early descent.

From the ATM, I’d take a
bundle of twenties, and
ride the train all the way
to Cleveland, my old home
town. Aunt Selma’s house is
empty, since she moved in
with her daughter.

I’d break through the back door
in the middle of the night, holding
my purple flashlight, and find my
way to the living room. There I’d
spend the night on the fuzzy
gray davenport.

Do you need help? I’d ask at
one of the Jewish bakeries
that are still left. I’d move
around, my apron caked with
flour, in an aroma of
coconut cakes, pecan tarts,
and fresh-baked challah. My
hair would again be black
and they would call me
“Rifka” my Hebrew name.

I’d be young again
free
unencumbered
and spend my nights on
the screened-in back porch with
the rickety steps
staring up at the stars.
And wondering.
Anyone up there?

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