A guest post by Nick Ruva.
Since You’ve Been Gone
The street noise is louder now that you are gone. Horns and sirens blare their warning through glass. I do my best to tune out the life animated below my windows as I hide under sheets for just-five- minutes-more, two hours longer. You once told me this city suffocated you. It drowns me.
My Furry Reason
With an impatient look, and a whine, I know it’s time for a walk. You’re my furry reason to leave the house. Somedays, the only reason. Your exuberance is one I haven’t felt in years, one I fear I may never know again, but through you. You force me to slow down, hurry up, live.
Summer in the City
Bleating notes to chaotic downtown streets through a reed that sounds far past its usefulness, you point your horn to us and squall. As a kid, I watched your predecessors blow to subway cars and transit authorities. Today, most avoid your squeaking overture, steering around you. I close my eyes and listen to you wail.
Nobody Is Watching
Did I ever tell you my dad and I saw a UFO one late night in an Albertson’s parking lot? That was when XXXXXXXX was still XXXXXXXX. That was before he told me the government was watching his every move. Perhaps the only reason they don’t watch mine is I didn’t believe him.
Nick Ruva is a Superstars Writing Seminars survivor, two-time champion of procrastination, computer automation specialist (who has effectively replaced himself with a very complicated but elegant sorting routine), and fulltime maker-uper of tall tales… He lives in Los Angeles with a little dog named after a character in Watership Down… Not one of the rabbits though, because that would be too obvious.