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This appears in a pre-2010 issue of cc&d magazine. Saddle-stitched issues are no longer printed, but you can requesting it “re-released” through amazon sale as a 6" x 9" ISBN# book! Email us for re-release to order.

STRESSED

Robert Alton McMakin

I got so stressed stuck in the same place of this race again, pressed face
down drowning again, in a puddle I actually put myself in, when then the
macallan spins the time I’m in, like a neglected little kid, and this
feeling of qualm lingers in as I start praying for calmness again, on bended
bleeding knees repenting my sins, that shouldn’t even begin to deserve to
make me be as disturbed as my nerves apparently were, while lingered rumors
stirred me up by using all the wrong thoughts that so-called friends brought
up, since then is when my mind will greedily gobble it all up, switch-
swatch and boggle it up, flip-flop and tossing it up, questioning quaint
quibble of quandary ghost stories torn from forlorn mornings, matching
exactly the masked answers of the questions I’ve been asking but of course I
won’t follow it up, take one big bite and swallow the whole thing up, so the
squeeze of the weave of these particular weeds weighed indeed so heavy upon
my chest that the best I could express my distress was to throw it all back
up, yearning to stop this burning pit of unrest I keep trying to press into
the bereft within myself, to suddenly stand naked and alone, undressed,
standing a fool and nothing less, with pictures in my mind reminding me for
the thousandth time what it was I possessed and what it was I had left,
listening to old folk lore of days of yore, maybe even a wee bit before, but
imagining more than what most have in store, hence, the reminicse of a
gentle strumpet’s kiss mixed with maybe that same mistress’s caress, wrongs
long gone but still on hums a song that I danced to, scores of chords that
will entrance you, induce you, then seduces you, willfully influcences me to
go the extra step, even though there are no stairs left, just a public
promise, not anonymous, that I pray both sides kept, crept in high tide to
rise like the undeniable truth, backed by irrefutable proof, not just
colorful exaggerated daydream fantasies that don’t matter, but of two
unbreakable characters fused by the same infallible answer.

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