Tag Archives: cl bledsoe

New Year's Day, poem by CL Bledsoe

One of the junkies in the back­seat spoke up to ask, “Should there be so much smoke behind us?” A wall of gray poured from the car. I took the first exit, won­der­ing how far I could make it before … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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DWI, poem by CL Bledsoe

They pulled Dad over on the way home from vis­it­ing us at Aunt Louise’s house where we were stay­ing while the divorce went through. His truck died, so he shut off his lights, cranked it, and flipped them back on. … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Frogball, poem by CL Bledsoe

We couldn’t afford bats so we scav­enged, bro­ken lengths of PVC pipes, crooked sticks, hands, if that’s all we had. Like­wise, instead of base­balls we used pinecones, dried cow pies, rocks. One kid start­ed catch­ing frogs and smack­ing them into … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Texas Never Whispers, by C.L. Bledsoe

The clos­er it got to Joey’s dad’s birth­day, the more agi­tat­ed he became, and with noth­ing worth­while to do when he wasn’t at work – which was less and less often since Jer­ry had been cut­ting his hours – he … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Squirrels in the Attic, fiction by CL Bledsoe

Every­one in the house knew they were squir­rels, except KT, who was sure with the con­vic­tion of an irra­tional mind fur­ther taint­ed from years of heavy drug use, that there were peo­ple – lit­tle peo­ple – liv­ing in the attic. … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Spite and Malice, fiction by CL Bledsoe

After Tom­my took the PCP, KT told him to calm down three times; each time, she made a point of stand­ing clos­er and clos­er to the shot­gun, the first, mov­ing across the room near it, the sec­ond, with her hand … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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The Stray Cat, fiction by CL Bledsoe

Joey had been suc­cess­ful­ly dodg­ing Tom­my, who’d had been tweaked out on home­made meth for near­ly a week, until Tom­my decid­ed he’d had enough of the stray cat nos­ing around the house. So he told Joey to leave some tuna … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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