Ragtag Daily Prompt Thursday: Junk

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Up In my attic

down in the basement

are boxes and trunks

packed with junk

of a life that came to an end

in an alley

along side a highway

in ditches and backyards and empty parking lots of super box stores.


I collected them all

and I stored them all here

I even labeled some with names in marker pen that bled over time

a phone, a hat an over due library book about how to pick up women

a purse still carrying makeup, a hairbrush, tic tacs  and cash

up in my attic, down in my basement tokens and trinkets

my private stash, undeniable proof of a life lived until it breathed it’s last.


When I sit in my kitchen,  watch tv in the living room,  before I fall asleep in my bed

I think about my attic, my basement

and I worry and fret, what happens when I run out of room?

What then? Oh my God what then?

Where will I hide my treasures of all of those lives once lived?

Slow down heart, slow down brain, down blood pressure I say.

There is always the shed.


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Paradise In The Suburbs

Word of the Day Challenge: Paradisiac

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Jolyn Tallman lives on a street

where all of the houses look freshly painted

and all of the women bob their hair

and wear jewelry they bought on their last vacation

to Mexico or L.A. and

Labradoodles and cats sun themselves in their picture book  backyards.


The woman on Jolyn’s street belong to book clubs

and sniff their wine before they sip it

except for when they are alone

and no one is around to watch them

and applaud them for how cultured they are

with admiration beaming from their eyes.


Sometimes on Jolyn’s street

a visitor from another world stops by one of the houses

that always looks freshly painted

and the visitors all sit on the edge of their chairs,

with their hands clenched tightly in their laps

and smiles plastered on their faces until it’s time to leave


and when they leave

those visitors get into their cars

and roll the windows down

they turn the radio up

push their seats back  and in that moment

they find  Paradise in the suburbs.

Analia’s Mirrors

There is legend

about a girl named


who was not sane-

and one day her family sent her away to be cured

at a hospital

on a road

out in the middle of nowhere.


There were bars on all of the windows.

The Doctors

who were not sane

locked her in a room full of mirrors

and the things that lived in Analia’s Brain

the things that drove her insane

went to live in the mirrors

where it was dark and quite and they didn’t have to listen to

Poor Analia’s Brain scream and scream and scream anymore.


One day

for no reason at all

the people died and the hospital died

and so did the things that hid under the beds

and in the closets.


Now Analia’s Mirrors hang from walls

in houses and libraries and shops and hotels


some are hanging in buildings with rats in the walls.

If by an unlucky

turn of fate

you find

one of the cool dark mirrors that hung in poor Analia’s room

in the hospital where the Doctors were not sane

and you press your ear to the glass

you can hear


moving around in there

and that something

that was never sane

used to live inside of

Poor Analia’s Brain