“Another hangover! I’ve already warned you three times!”
“You’re not the boss of me Now!”
“The jerk told me—ME—to never come back!”
“One on the house. We’ll be seein’ you a lot more.”
“Hands OFF, bub!”
“You heard her. Them. Time to go, Jack.”
“Who put this effin’ wall where the door used to be?”
“Won’t need this tie for a while.”
“Damned curb! Arghhh …”
“A nice tie! What’s behind the dumpster? Oh my god!”
“911? He looks dead.”
“License has a local address. Wasn’t homeless. Now he is.”
“I’ll call you back. Someone’s at the door.”
Ken Gosse usually writes light, rhymed verse with whimsy and humor. Sometimes it’s darker. He was first published in First Literary Review-East in 2016, and since then by Pure Slush, Spillwords, Lothlorien Review, and others. Raised in the Chicago suburbs, now retired, he and his wife have lived in Mesa, AZ, over twenty years with rescue dogs and cats underfoot.
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