Fiction   Essays   Poetry  The Ten On Baseball Chapbooks In Memory

Canon Synchrony, C. 1919, by Stanton Macdonald-Wright

Melanie Burke Zetzer


for Eddie

You are a ship
trapped in a medicine bottle.
Your sails will never catch the wind under glass,
stiff riggings,
no salt air.

Placed on a shelf.
They put a
a plastic
childproof cap
on your daydreams.

For a dollar a day.
You are time released to go off
when you reach age eighteen.

Hitting on Buddha

I used to have a bong shaped like a buddha,
with a bowl in his belly,
& a hole in the back of his head,
that you could draw from
as long as you put your finger
over the carburater in his big toe.

In Buddha
I smoked red bud,
with tiny red hairs.
with only two seeds per quarter pound.
skunky stuff,
thick and tightly packed,
just a pinch
in Buddha was all it took.

The thing, I liked the most,
about my Buddha bong,

other than hitting on his head,
you could fill him up with wine,
Strawberry Boones Farm
was preferred.
when you ran out of weed,
you could drink of Buddha, too.
Like a spring
coming from a rock.

For twelve years,
I took Buddha,
where ever I went,

to the high desert in San Bernardino, California,
to the swamplands in Florida,
to urban centers like New York City,
Boston, Chicago, L.A.,
from one side of this country,
to the other.
I even took Buddha,
with me to Boulder, Colorado.

One day, Buddha
and I,
grew weary.
I got sick,
and developed a hacking cough.

I could no longer draw from god.

I lost the spirit,
I lost the faith,
I lost the numbers to my dealers,
when I lost my wallet,
back in Boulder, Colorado.

So I gave Buddha
to my best friend Gary,
in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
He still has Buddha.
He keeps him in the bottom drawer,
of his black, lacquered, night stand,
wrapped in tissue,
next to a box of sex toys.
He and his wife,
still hit on Buddha,
in between visits,
to the methadone clinic,
in downtown New Orleans.

©1996, 2003 by Melanie Burke Zetzer

Melanie Burke Zetzer is originally from Louisiana, but is currently happily nestled into the wooded and scenic hills of Hot Springs, Arkansas in a rustic cabin with her teenage son and her new puppy, Scrappy Doo. She is a home health care nurse, and is attending UALR college part-time, where she enjoys their excellent Creative Writing Program. When she is not working to pay the bills, chasing teenagers, dogs, and paperwork, she and her son like to rough it, camping, fishing, hiking, and looking for crystals in the nearby Caney Creek Wilderness Area. Melanie says she writes because she has to, and because she wants to, and because she can, and will continue to do so until the ink in her pen runs dry.

  Home Contributors Past Issues Search   Links  Guidelines About Us


Subscribe to the Slow Trains newsletter