Monthly Archives: July 2015

Small press book fairs, a poem

I participated in several small press book fairs between 1975 and 1979 while a member of the board of the Minneapolis Metropolitan Arts Alliance. For some reason I was never able to understand, small press publishers insisted on holding these … Continue reading

Posted in aging, Humor, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

On time

One of my obsessions is being on time. For me that means being early. I used to show up at work an hour early, raising the question: “Why?” My answer, that I enjoy getting to work early made me the … Continue reading

Posted in George Polley, Humor, Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Scottish Country Fair

On the green dancers leap & twirl bodies light as mist. They catch moons with their arms throw out suns make the earth under their feet groan with pleasure & with their eyes give out a solemn joy & pride … Continue reading

Posted in George Polley, Poety, Scottish dancing | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Grandmothers

There is a sound that grandmothers make that is full of memories. I heard it on the bus today returning from Sapporo Station. I think grandmothers use it everywhere whenever a grandchild begs for something he or she knows a … Continue reading

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Gift

“My son had a bright red Mazda like yours,” she said, stopping and looking at mine. “Yours is the first one like it I’ve seen since. I lost him last year. He was only fifty-one. A fast-growing cancer took him.” … Continue reading

Posted in Flash fiction, George Polley | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

“Hi there, big boy!”

Her name is Esther. She is eighty-three, has no teeth, and is a burned-out schizophrenic. When I walked into the living room where she was sitting watching TV and called her name, she turned her head, looked up at me … Continue reading

Posted in aging, Flash fiction, Humor | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Two ultra short stories

Nursing Homes and Farting in Public Though the nursing home was comfortable, the care good, and the food excellent, Fred didn’t like it. “Take me home,” he said every time a family member came to visit. When his son arrived … Continue reading

Posted in Flash fiction, George Polley, Humor | Tagged , , | 2 Comments