E.J. LeRoy
On a Portland day without rain
Two billy goats boarded a train
While looking for views
They made national news
The reaction has just been insane
Wanted
One Eastern cottontail
Last seen destroying plants
In neighborhood yards
Also wanted: one stewpot
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
I watch all my TV over the air
I will not spend my money on streaming
Binging network programs without a care
Free films from the library I’m screening
Spending for cable I never would dare
Those hefty bills would just set me screaming
On financial matters I will not bend
An indoor antenna’s a girl’s best friend
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
They say conspiracy theory radio talk shows only play at night. They’re wrong.
Sometimes midday you can hear them. If you drive out of the city into the middle of nowhere. Just listen.
Park and play the radio just right, and you might hear the tales of lizard zombies that crawl out of the Earth’s core following a meteor storm. I almost saw one once; a lizard zombie, I mean.
I know the greys are real. Sometimes, I hear them through the fillings in my teeth, always at high noon. At night, they taunt me with their dreaded Hum.
I use the radio in my old truck and a prepaid burner phone, never a smartphone. You never know who might be listening. But I suspect it’s an organization with jumbled letters. The kind of letters that correspond to numbers that add up to evil.
The people must be warned. Don’t they know the End Times are coming?
I give them a call
“Hello, Friend! You’re on the air!”
And I tell the truth
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
Poets and writers each have their vices
Whether it’s drugs, arthouse movies, or tea
How they all swear by their own devices
To create time-honored works for a fee
The faint promise of fame that entices
Against all work ethics’ stodgy decrees
The dance between professional and fun
Candy in pill bottles? That’s a new one
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
A plastic bottle
Remnant of humanity
Universal thread
Odd thoughts while writing this travel journal entry. Faces and feet pass in a blur in front of arches and mosaics. Everyone talks about the architecture or cuisine while traveling, maybe the language and national dress. But there’s a plastic bottle in the road, a universal sign of both littering and global capitalism. In a flash, I see the commonality of all mankind, not through family, friendship, or love, but litter. The familiar packaging, the international brand name—how can anyone fight when we share the same water and imbibe from the same companies?
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
Hello, I’m not at home
Please leave a message
With the banana phone
What’s that you say?
No answering machine
Good, now go away
You see, I’ve cut all obnoxious ties
To asinine jokes, doomscrolling,
Petty political stunts, and lies
Until I replaced my smartphone
I had no idea how much time could fly
Now I do, thanks to my banana phone
Smooth yellow crescent on my wall
With no irritating texts, pings, or calls
You’re the least annoying phone of all
So, if my number you cannot reach
That’s just too bad
Tell it to the banana—beep!
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize-nominated writer with a forthcoming mpreg novella. Curious? Visit http://ejleroy.weebly.com.
It was bad weather for an exhibit
With ominous clouds that conquered the air
And the gallery seemed to inhibit
Those colors destined to drive out despair
The sign said, “Touch, we will not prohibit”
So, my father plopped himself in a chair
At the window, in a manner most crass
He fell asleep with his foot on the glass!