Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Gene McCormick- A Poem & Art


Mandy, here’s the deal:
if you don’t get downstairs
and do some work
we’re not going to do
your laundry any more.

But Mandy is in bed,
curled tight on her side
in a ball,
arms clutched about her.
Her eyes are open.

Mandy comes downstairs,
doesn’t speak, goes directly
outside, splashes soapy water
on the family car and briskly
rubs the same spot for five minutes
in a small circular motion.

Mandy tosses the washrag down,
walks into the street,
the middle,
and stands there,
straddling the center line.

Mandy gets hit by a car.
She’s dead.

Brief Bio: If there is one thing that annoys Gene McCormick, a/k/a/ “Mr. Road Kill,” it’s young women who stand in the middle of the street and get in the way of his front bumper. Actually, other things annoy him as well.


  1. Getting a little cranky in our sunset years?


  2. I'm digging the art piece. 👍

  3. The sun never sets on the British Empire, or Ralph.

    And, thanks, Michael, for your Louvre-like exquisite taste.