Morsels

Short stories should be written on tiny paper.

No health insurance.

Short Fiction and Long Fiction are only related by marriage.

She left them lace-less; she even stripped out the damned soles.

Does it wonder? Does it ask? Can it discover—what it means to be human?

Lost in the traffic jam at the end of time.

Say something about attention spans degrading over the centuries…

Short stories waste not time nor ink.

Every hellish technological advance,

that we humans have developed

—has done absolutely nothing

to alter the core of the human condition.

Not even fire or weapons or governments.

Victims of Instant Gratification. Convenience. Out of touch of a finger.

A reduction; a cooking term for removing water through evaporation

How can a straight “A” student long for silent death?

Budget-cut educations; a systematic dumbing-down.

Trying to wake an audience, feared to sleep each night,

After another agonizing, underpaid,

“You are dispensable,” assault on her dignity day,

be her chamomile, be her lavender,

be her freshly drawn bath water,

and the rest she deserves,

remember to love readers.