Tommy Cecil
Chapter 10
Joe Lawrence loved music, all kinds too, and I admired that about him. He often had bands from our local area come to play on the weekends. My first intervention with Tommy Cecil was on a Friday Night, playing an Eagles’ song, James Dean, then he followed up with David Bowie’s Suffragette City. Damn, this blew me and the whole audience there away! Tommy had a gift that few could ever master in twenty lifetimes.
Husband: Honey, can you please make my oatmeal less lumpy this morning? It is hard to swallow!
Wife: She looks at him and grins. She continues to stir the oatmeal. Then drops a huge clump into his bowl.
Husband: Honey, it’s still lumpy! Didn’t you hear me?
Wife: She grabs a skillet and knocks him upside his head!
Husband: Honey, can you hand me a straw?
- John Hardesty
The Sun never shines out of fashion, always
holding on to its fiducial light. Our Sun’s
immortal stare is clinched there for time
immemorial, never blinking, and solemnly and
steadfast blared through every Chinese and
Egyptian Dynasty’s demise, never wavered in
its glorious gleam whilst the Romans slaughtered
the Holy Jew, and never surrendered its glare
when Fascism soared beneath the Sun’s breath.
The Sun engulfed five mass extinctions, and
charred the Brontosaurus, Stegosaurus, and
the Tyrannosaurus. Watched the deluge cool
the Earth into the Ice Age.
Jim Morrison was the Reptilian King,
Upon the highway an Indian’s spirit
Commandeered your fragile soul.
The Bohemian shrug,
