Author: Raymond A Stanton

Heading to Work

My head spins to madness in the direction of the days doom. Floating like a cheap balloon through a patch of thorns. I passed a Jesus sign selling coffee and shoes. In the land of riches, there’s only dusty doughnuts and heaps of grease. Time halted by a train ripping through the terrain. I squirm…

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Like a Beat Dog

Life’s got me working like a beat dog these days.  All that time pissing in the wind when I was younger  Catching up to me now. It’s hotter than hell sitting here on this covered porch with no window to see or breath. Inhaling cigarette tar and THC crystals as the eggs fry on the…

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Mechanical Man

I fuel up in the morning on coffee and nicotine When I arrive I plug myself into the machine Frequencies babbling to tones of timed chaos Rage fills the soul And still I sputter on connected to that machine Dreams die in this pit of money Slowly falling from what I was meant to be…

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To Belding the River Flows

Infused rambling in dim-lit aisles, Strange vibrations heaping into piles, I float the river for miles. I say, “We need to float; float that boat, all the way to Belding.” This we did, and with the river, we sing. To an island, we came to be. “Let’s make some chili,” I say. Looking above in…

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Last Day of Squirrel Season

So there I go, Off to the woods, on a sunny day in the snow. It’s the last day of squirrel season. Dad was supposed to go, We have a competition every year, to see which one will shoot the most. Last year I won. This year he’s one ahead. I’d like to shoot five,…

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The Creek Behind the School

I grew up in Claypool Indiana, a small farm town covered on all sides by cornfields and small patches of woods. It was a typical small town. The kind of place where everybody knew everybody. There was a good amount of kids in town my age and we always had something to do. Most of…

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