Chances were the premium at the chances store.
Called up their proprietor and asked for just one more.
Inside information suggested relocate.
When they closed the chances store, it sealed the users fate.
With no plans for the future and the future, it is here.
Who knew that the sun would rise and whisper last nights fear?
So we headed for the highway, which ended at the light.
Looked upon arrival, no chances store in sight.
Searching for the answers that will ease the fears.
Some will stand there crying and find few are buying tears.
All are someone’s baby lost along the way.
Strangers and sojourners who have lost the need to pray.
And I say, “Pray”

Dennis Mantin

The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.

No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.

It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.

Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.

Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”

So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.

The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.

Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.

Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.

Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.

The teacher wrote something on the blackboard…

David said, “You make a better door than a window even though you are a pane.” (Pain was the intention.)

I laughed until tears streaked down my face. Never seen anyone show such disrespect and get away with it.

Rumors began to swirl that day that I was on drugs.

The quote I remember was, “Nobody laughs like that.”

I was 15 and had never taken drugs, and yes I laughed like that.

Dennis Mantin

Zylia, who is 7, asked me… “You ever think about what our pets think about when we leave them?”

“As a matter of fact I was just thinking about that yesterday and I don’t know if they think about anything other than eating… what do you think they think about?”

“I think they hope we don’t bring home any more pets.”

“Brilliant!”

Dennis Mantin

He was called Tiny Tom and worked as a bouncer at a dive on Queen street. He looked to be about 6’5″, 300 lbs.

A girl I dated whose name I can’t remember said she went to his place one time where he lived with his parents and he slept in a single bed in the bedroom he grew up in and the wallpaper was cowboys and Indians.

He wore a black bikers vest and stood at the doorway with his massive arms folded under a scowl that seemed to say fuck with me at your own peril.

The girl told me that his shins were as soft as jelly, and if he was ever hit in his legs, it would cripple him; he was in constant fear of being challenged.

One night after drinking way too much and wanting more, I left the bar with Tom who knew a bootlegger who lived close to where I lived.

Close by was a storage plant for American Standard toilets and a 5 ton truck with the engine running outside the plant. Tom decided he wanted to steal the truck and I left him and walked home.

The last I saw of Tiny Tom was the driver of the truck climbing up to the drivers door trying to stop him as about 10 to 15 American Standard toilets fell from the back of the truck and smashed on the road.

“Stop! Stop!” The driver yelled. The truck and Tom jerked to a stop… A long time ago.

Dennis Mantin

Bukowski said when you clean up the city, you kill it.

That life is where the whores are, where the jukeboxes play; in the bars.

Ah but Charles… I have been to your dives and honkeytonks with the whores and addict drunks and I have experienced the life and stimulation there… and that shit gets old quick.

I like your writing and have a warmth to this rare honesty. However I am guessing you never experienced love as a child or loved children of your own, for that is where life is.

Dennis Mantin

Play with the bull long enough and you will get a horn in the ARSE!!

You were warned about sleeping dogs!But NOOOOO!!

Ya wanted to poke the bear!

I may be out of animal references, but we are at the end of the rope here…

Dennis Mantin

Originally the dream was just survival. Dare nothing past the essentials for fear of being smacked off that high horse of; ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’

The mind was quieted for many a score with internal interests of learning how to be still with fears and dreams and somehow simply be…

The dream of not caring what others think at times seemed unattainable and yet here we are on a rock hurtling through time and space..

How lucky is that?

Dennis Mantin