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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Ice King” Down in the Dirt (v141) (the January 2017 Issue)  You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:  |
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Order this writing in the book Study in Black the Down in the Dirt July-Dec. 2016 collection book |
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get the 418 page Jan.-April 2017 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:
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enjoy this writing from Janet Kuypers by clicking the title or the cover from the cc&d free 2017 PDF file chapbook: Drop the Bomb of her chosen poems for potential reading at “Austin’s 2017 Poetry Bomb” outdoors at Graffiti Park |
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Order this Janet Kuypers writing from her most recent poetry book series: (pheromemes) 2015-2017 poems Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# book today of select poems written mid-2015 - mid-2017 during her first years living in Austin, TX
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| exhaling toxic fumes
Janet Kuypers 1/13/16 so he and his friends bring me to some party in some stranger’s house and one of his friends says to me, “I’m buying a balloon here. Wanna hit?” and I’m guessing it’s a whip-its balloon, but I’m not even sure if it’s laughing gas or what, but wait, isn’t nitrous oxide the teen party gas of choice? But I really wasn’t sure, so I thought I’d be safe and say I’ll do it if my friend does it (and I really thought my friend wouldn’t do it). So his friend turns to him and asks, and he says, sure. Oh. So that backfired... and I never got the chance to ask what on earth it was I was inhaling before his friend came back, inflated balloon in hand. They told us to to on the couch. So we did. “Just take a hit, lean back and close your eyes,” he said. So my friend went first, handed me the balloon, and like a good student I did as I was told. And it seemed that almost suddenly the party music slowed, even the conversations that echoed around me. And that’s when he hit me — wait a minute, it’s not like that, he was next to me and he just tapped my leg with the back of his hand. So I did the same thing back. Then he brushed his hand against me leg again. So again, I reciprocated. And my eyes were closed and he just kept doing this, just kept tapping my leg. So it had to happen like twelve times, and then it occurred to me that the music stopped. So I opened my eyes to look over at him, and he was just staring at me with saucers for eyes. After a moment I asked, “You weren’t hitting me, were you?” And he said no. So I just looked around realizing I may be better off grounded in reality instead. |
