joseph goosey : “giant ginger snap cookies”
There was something very transparent about it which I could not seem to hurdle. Sometimes water runs through eyelids and you simply cannot bring yourself to think of her smoothly powdered bottom on someone Else's couch. She enjoys the giant ginger snap cookies at the organic food mart and one day, silly me, I will drive the 26 miles, go up to the counter and say, "Excuse me, But I would like to have one of those giant ginger snap cookies." and the young girl/boy behind the counter (who will be wearing a green/blue bandanna) will wrap the giant ginger snap cookie up in one of those napkin things much like the stuff at the doctors office you sit down on once you have taken off all of your outdated clothing. I will make the 26 mile return trip, walk through tan doorways and she will be sitting in something like a chair talking about the famous folks from the forties and fifties. She will see the cookie in my hand and thank me kindly. But I do not really expect any of this to grow. Often times, many times, people will meet like that, I mean, in rooms on the other side of tan doorways. It happens and so do other, worse things, they happen too and there is nothing one can jump in front of or place in the road. One can write 29 pages about the time in the restaurant, or 10 pages about the time in the attic but when the time switches over and you find yourself ready for your pajamas at 3:34PM Santa Clara is still a long ways away.
Joseph Goosey's Poetry cannot be found in The American Poetry Review. Some recent stuff can be seen in Remark, Hum-Drum, Underground Guerilla Art, & Dogmatika. He recently lost his bottle opener & needs to pay his car insurance.
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