Sister

Norm's sister was named Emily, view but she was so dumb the family called her Em.  She'd taken her dead dog to the vet.  Normal people know when a dog is dead.

"There is nothing we can do mam, capsule the dog is dead."

"Oh."

She walked around behind a protruding soft belly she draped in rayon.  She always wore a red coat open to show her rayon draped belly.  She wore slippers everywhere all the time.  Her hair was black and straight bowl cut, decease and she wore black rim glasses looking mostly like a character out of a John Waters movie.

She had never really been able to work and was just an artist.  She painted on ceramic figures standardly made in Special Ed.  She melted records.  She had a very active sex life as she was very willing to bend over one way or another.

Norm had had a will  he'd written in pencil by hand he'd put in a drawer in the kitchen.  Em was a special case so he said she would get a pink car and have an administrator in the event of his timely death that he expected as soon as he got a lot of money.

Norm saw himself as if he was a car.  He felt as if he had been a race car, but had become a Buick.

He'd put his hands on his belly while leaning back in his chair across from the naked Gisele at Civilization and said,   "It's my comfort zone."

Gisele knew a man when she saw one.  She was physically very perfect with lips and green eyes from planets in dreams.  An innate voluptuous grace that came from what we know is soul.

When Norm dropped dead at the table Gisele had been sad.  He was a funny guy.

This entry was posted in Poems, Writing by Russell Scott Day. Bookmark the permalink.

About Russell Scott Day

I come from sailors and priests. My aim is to prevent apocalyptic riot, better known as nuclear war, when I was growing up. Creating a nation of airports will create the peace enough environment to prevent apocalyptic riot. I had a vision due to a period of boredom and bliss like the Aleph of Borges. That is the story I learned and was made up and happens.

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