Unlikely 2.0


   Pity would be no more if we did not make somebody poor; and Mercy no more could be if all were as happy as we. —William Blake


Recent Articles:

Three Poems by Alia Vancrown
Three Visual Poems by Nicholas Komodore
Three Poems by Lawrence Welsh
Three Postcards by Jacob A. Bennett
Three Poems by Wendy Taylor Carlisle
selections from Symphony No.7 (detached resonating hour): Poetry by Ric Carfagna
Three Poems by Lizzy Swane
Whisper, then the illusion lengthens: Poetry by Felino A. Soriano
Three Poems by Marc Thompson
Three Poems by B. Z. Niditch
Civil Servant: Fiction by Tom Bonfiglio
Listen, Arcada: Riffs on Invasions, Violence, Doom, and Other Pathologies: Fiction by George Sparling
Waitstaff: Fiction by Bruce Memblatt
The Spa Owner's Family: A Novella by Dirk van Nouhuys
Phil Rockstroh on police repression, official mendacity and why OWS has already overcome
Jerel C. Wilmore documents the March 3rd protest at Virginia's Capitol Square
Rev. John Helmiere describes being beaten by Oakland cops
At the Crossroads of Climate and Food by Councilman Richard Conlin
Starhawk on green entrepreneurship in impoverished San Francisco
Two Songs by The Buffalo Skinners
Belinda Subraman's film of Occupy El Paso: Oct. 15 2011
Eclipse Landing: 60 moons @voodoo rock: a Short Film by Cecelia Chapman
Paintings and Details by Carla Lobmier
Janina Darling on Carla Lobmier
Nine Paintings by MOO | Monika Mori
Sam Vaknin on the continuing banking crisis
Mike Peake on the abuse of Occupy Oakland by Oakland Police
An Open Letter to the Occupy Wall Street Activist by JohnPaul Montano
John Cavanagh and Robin Broad on corporations suing El Salvador
Three Poems by B. Z. Niditch
Three Poems by Raymond Keen
Three Poems by Ally Malinenko
Three Poems by Dennis Mahagin
Three Poems by Michael Farrell
Two Poems by Louise Landes Levi
Two Poems by Jay Passer
Two Poems by Mindy Mae Friesen
Tropisms: A Poem by Bruce Holsapple
Fighting Words: Wrestling Words Revisited: a Video-Story by Grace Andreacchi
Cliffhanger: A Short Story by Ian Woollen
Marina: A Short Story by Brent Powers
If Buttons Had Their Own Wills, Agnes Probably Wouldn't Be So Obsessed With Them: A Short Story by Brian Katz
Psycho-Geo-Cato: A Short Storyesque by bart plantenga


Join our mailing list!


Print this article


A Gripa
Part 2

I have a gripa. Not only with the grappa but with a few other things as well. With the corporate intent, for one, and its tiny and tinier staff rooms, infinities for the ever-shrinking CNA. There shall be no rest at work. Consequently there’s too much rest at home. Pillows are for sleeping.

I’m wide awake, playing at sums with any other gripas I can lay my mind on. The infectious diseases my CNA picks up at the hospital and that make him sleepy, the antibiotics he takes that make him sleepy, going out to the club and coming home late that makes him sleepy, his Buddhist phlegm that makes him sleepy, his feminist consideration for women’s clinically documented slow approach to sex that makes him sleepy, his philosophy of uncertain outcome that makes him sleepy, his damn lack of corporate intent that makes him sleepy. He’s blowing bubbles like a baby.

Could there be a reverse Pinocchio effect for women who admit to the truth? Do all sexually frustrated women have long noses? Mine grows by the numbers on my unbalanced gripa sheet, my body disproportionates into extremities of misanthropic bookkeeping until I start to scream in fright.

Hush, hush! My CNA runs along the quarter mile hallway of his dream, he hears me shouting at the far end and nearly loses his balance. Hush, lady, you there, you’re disturbing the patients. I am a patient, I howl, my nose has grown down into my chin and now I have a handle in my face like an old woman! Oh dear! He checks his records. Name, uh, significant, um, other. Diagnosis, here it is, he brightens up. Raised temperature with hallucinatory symptoms due to supplementation with italienated grappa, an eccentric reaction not uncommon in women with overactive imagination. There, it’s not really serious. We’ll open the blinds and let the moonlight in, it acts beneficial on the after effects of imbibing, uh, un-aged distillates.

Fuck the moonlight and the grappa, I cry, I’m hysterical! I have a gripa between my legs, my thighs are growing hairy, eeew! and it’s all your fault! How come you leave your cock to shrivel in your teensy-weensy staff room and only bring home some left over lips to dribble with in your sleep? I don’t dribble in my sleep! Yes you do! Big fat dribbles that smell of disinfectant and curdle my skin with cellulites and gnarl my toes and turn my elbows out. See what you’ve done? You’ve made me my bones brittle. I need a hip replacement!

Now that makes him mad. You’re right! he cries. I keep forgetting that I have no right to recuperate from work just so I can get back to work and find you on the sixth floor, orthopedics, specialty hip replacements! I have to remember that I can never rest and that my first duty is to your ass! Here’s for waking me up in the middle of the night, or is it early morning?

He slaps some corporeal intent onto my ass at last and makes it bloom all round and rosy, and then he fucks me and untwists my limbs, unfurls my belly, uncrooks my nose until it’s back to its proper short and only slightly pointed hint at sharpness. I’m a younger woman again, ten years, at least, off my middle age, my eyes swim brilliantly in his cum. The moon, bless her, stays extra for all the pornographic content of our window show and then hurries on to catch up with her orbit.

<>

My CNA has drifted back into refreshing sleep, much needed, and I hang on to a last bit of drowsy gripa. Why can’t he sleep on the job like any drugged daydreaming CEO of fiscal fiction? Or else for better, why can’t he earn a fair share at a restful and satisfying occupation with benefits, among them a standard six weeks paid vacation at seniority?

Then we could travel to Italy together. We would eat dinner al fresco on a terrace at the long tables of a trotteria overlooking the town square. We would drink golden-hued grappa and inhale the aroma of the original must of grape skins and seeds and stems and I whisper scenarios for adventures in the Tuscan olive groves into his ear until he blushes. The balmy night, the silver moon and the mild effect of barrel-aged grappa smoothes lines and wrinkles, lifts jowls and tits until you don’t know how, it’s magic, oh my love! A horny faun ties a sylvan nymph to an ancient olive tree and has his way with her… ! Sweet dreams.

<>

A yellow sticky note is being shuffled around the debris on my desk and nags me with its two scribbles of unrelated stories. It’s always another day. My phone is full of messages from the US department of education and other financial institutions reminding my daughter of the unpaid installments of her student loans. There’s education. My son’s ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend has been rearrested because he had been released from prison prematurely through an error of the system. My son’s new girlfriend has been rearrested because she violated parole when she was too sick to show up for an appointment. Drug charges, both of them. There’s justice. I can’t change the bank account information on my credit card online account for easy e-bill pay, error, error! sorry we can’t assist you! and my snail mailed payment will be late to the tune of a thirty-nine dollar fee. There’s money. My CNA is tired every night and I can rouse him with a temper tantrum only every so often, and we go to couple counseling. There’s relationship and sex, or the other way round.

There’s always more. There’s Iraq, Iran, North Korea, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Sudan, you name it. There’s women’s rights, reproductive and other, non-existent in large parts of the world. There’s aliens from every quadrant and dimension of the universe, hello, are you here to help us, or are you conspiring with our governments? There’s religion, for god’s sakes.

Each of them another story of another gripa with the corporate, judicial, financial, political, national, extra terrestrial, inter-dimensional, sexual and whatever fucking intent. I’m looking at gripas for years to come. And no real grappa to tide me over.


E-mail this article

Violetta says, "I was born... and here I am. It's been quite a trip."