ghost of that girl
By Mark Pashia

i came home today
and found a puppy in the postal box
licking letters
not ready to be sent
it was disturbing
so i tossed salt over my shoulder
and buried my blue heart in the backyard


i have a pet apple named eve
on tuesdays
we go to the reptile garden
and pray for restraint
seldom do the serpents
wave hello
or goodbye for that matter

it seems
that once when i was young
i wished upon a falling star
but forgot the wish
now i'm taking taxis
to have memories removed

in ten years
at two hundred dollars an hour
i might remember

if god had green eyes


Mark Pashia lives in Southern California. He spends far too much time toiling in corporate bureaucracies and too little time relaxing at the beach. He is an ex-drinker, ex-junkie, ex-smoker and now an ex-husband. He takes great pleasure in annoying those around and about him by always landing on his feet. His work can be found in previous issues of Comrades, and all of his words can be found here


Loss  | Vashon | Services | Art | Poetry | Store | Contact

© 1999 KotaPress All rights reserved.  ISSN 1534-1410
Please direct comments regarding this web site to