I see them in the alley, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer as a sliver of sunlight stretched through the maples to greet them.

I had my time, long passed through the mists of time; not much sunlight stretched there. No more judgments from me for them or me. I’m just doing things differently now…

I tuned her guitar today and got new strings. She called from the bus to ask if that got done and smiled when I said “yes”

Maria smiled at me as I passed her in the alley and said, “Say hello to your daughter for me.”

An hour before daybreak.

I was dreaming something, I forgot.

Or maybe I’m just refusing.

To get up and take the shot.

There was screaming in the distance.

For a sun that’s going to rise.

It seems like sad resistance.

I think I’ll try to close my eyes…

They look soft, seated on public transit. Staring into their phones on the way to the ballgames, pretending not to notice the children and elderly standing…

I have taken

Have not forsaken

So much more than I can use.

Blaming needy.

Just plain old greedy.

What’s that thing that weepers lose?

Finders keepers

Losers weepers.

Can’t be the drinkers. It’s the booze.

I have stolen.

Fat purses swollen.

I’m not losing, I refuse!

I finished off the story.

They are talking love and geeks.

No weakness, gains, or glory.

In this world of circus freaks.

Oly, Al, and Chickadee.

Crystal Lil, the simese twins.

Arturo has his madness.

And his groupies and his fins.

I’m kinda glad it’s over.

Cause it’s summertime outside.

I’ll be rolling in the clover.

Too much time was spent inside…

I see her in The Dream.

We are both crying, and we are younger.

I knew I’d never see her again and how I knew I didn’t know, I just knew.

Yet, 45 years later, she is still with me… Somewhere in The Dream.

I don’t cry anymore, Debbie. I get angry and express myself; sometimes I write. I never hold it in. I let it out. I think I miss you…

Dennis Mantin

It is drama in the kitchen.

Exaggeration on the phone.

Silence in the bedroom.

Until we are all alone.

It is drama all this bitchin.

Humiliation… no atone.

Beauty is just skin deep.

And Ugly goes to the bone.

Having thoughts lots about dying.

And other things that I don’t know.

Its not the fear that’s got me down.

Just that I don’t want to go.

Now sure I know I have no choice.

Has been made abundant and clear.

This transformation is all the rage.

I just kinda like it here.

I hear all this complaining.

What’s wrong about this and that.

You never really stood a chance.

With an attitude like that.

I recognized my nature.

Not much was steeped in good.

There was this strange sensation.

Like maybe I just should.

Forget it all and start a new.

Take the narrow view to wide.

Take my head out from my ass.

And maybe look outside.

Not all is gain or glory.

Not all is pain and strife.

The road the path the choices made.

It’s a wild ride this life.

The north coast of Nova Scotia is somewhere between the middle of nowhere and God’s country.

Somehow, I was still there when I was 18, and she’d been dead for 7 years. I would still look for her whenever I was in a crowd of people. Straining searching. Imagining that she had faked her death to get away from me. My mother. By the fall of 1977, I guess I figured she was really dead. All of this I kept to myself. Winding wrapped tight. In my tiny bedroom on a twin bed in a mobile trailer on an acre of land at the edge of Deception River is where the nightmare began…

I ripped out the window screen at the foot of the bed one night and the screen at the head of the bed the next. Screaming some nonsensical rage about “I’ll get you! You motherfuckers!” The next morning the fingernails were torn and bloodied from ripping out screens. Both windows smashed.

I could hear the breathing coming from something somewhere. I held my breath and lay still on my bed, making sure it wasn’t me. I looked under the bed and under the trailer. Nothing. I was alone… except for whatever was breathing. It felt like it was coming from inside me. I had never been so terrified. I forgot to pray. I forgot God.

After a few days and nights of this, I realized that I had to leave that bed, that bedroom,that trailer, that acre, that river.

I left and never returned…

I