Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [21]

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Chapter 21. Eiffel’s Tower

Joc had a reserved section at the Wild West Show, dead center in the front row, just below the dignitaries’ section, with its bar and waiters. He had ten guests including Claude and Dominique, who sat alongside him.
    The show featured lots of gun shooting and horse riding. Indians attacked settlers and stagecoaches alike but never won a battle. Bill Cody was always the hero that saved the day, riding in on his white horse with both guns blazing. Joc kept asking with great excitement, “Is that real? Does that happen? Have you ever shot an Indian? Do you know any of the people in the show?”

Goines On: Fewer weeds, more flowers

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The woman walking her dog toward Goines seemed to be treading waste. Not really – the sidewalk was clear. Treading waste metaphorically. Something in the look on her face provoked the thought. And he had seen the look on his own face many times – in the bathroom mirror, in selfies that – if he shared them – frequently prompted some busybody to tell him to smile.

All Over the Place: Brown Shoes

By Michael H. Brownstein



—after Amy Gerstler’s poem “Watch”

For some strange reason I had wanted to have [my father’s] shoes, the shoes he was wearing when he died…and was sad to learn they had been incinerated.
        —Amy Gerstler, commenting on “Watch”

They were just a pair of old shoes, untied,
Scuffed on the side of the left one
Deeply scarred near the front of the right one.

The Loneliest Liberal: In above under out yonder

By James Knudsen

A close acquaintance recently offered the following. “Life’s roads are often difficult, but there’s always a map to take us in a new direction.”
    Given that I was born under the sign of Pisces, one might expect the water of the oceans to be the place I go to chart adventures or a new path. I suspect geography is playing a larger role than astrology in this case, because born in California’s Central Valley, with its dry, open expanses, 140 miles from the nearest ocean, has anchored me to the land with greater force than being born under the sign of water-bound Pisces. And so it’s roads and not oceans, seas, or rivers that have borne me on my memorable travels.

Goines On: Sanctification

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A pang of longing shot through Goines at Walmart, at his impulse to buy eye wash – a repetitive act of old, but no longer called for, since Ziggy had gone on and his and Mrs. Goines’ own need for eye wash was a small fraction of what Ziggy had needed because of his allergies. The thought now, in the pharmacy at Walmart, of buying eye wash somehow elevated the act – or just the thought of the act – to the status of a sacrament, a holy, hallowed, blessed act: in remembrance of Ziggy.

Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [20]

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Chapter 20. Paris World Fair


May 1, 1889, was a beautiful day for a wedding. Dominique was two months pregnant with their first child. Claude had yet to warn her that there might be a problem with the child’s skin color. In France, the child would be welcomed, but Claude wasn’t so sure how the birth would play in San Antonio.

Goines On: Reporting drunk drivers

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The Goineses were in a rental car heading south on California’s Hwy 99, along the eastern side of the long, wide San Joaquin Valley, now dry and dusty from lack of rain and the consumption of river and ground water by the growing number of orchards of tightly packed almond and pistachio trees.
    They were going to spend a couple of nights in Tulare, visiting a friend their children’s age the first evening, and the next day visiting Mrs. Goines’ 93-year-old cousin and his wife of 72 years, and then the town cemetery, where their parents were interred.

All Over the Place: A haiku, from first draft to publication

By Michael H. Brownstein

Haiku, as almost everyone knows, is a very popular type of Japanese poem. Traditionally, it has three lines, the first and last consisting of five syllables and the middle one containing seven. Syllabication in Japanese is much different from in English. For this reason, many English-writing haiku poets keep the three-line framework, but not the syllable count.
    I wrote a haiku for the Human Kind Journal, an online publication of Japanese poetic forms. Here’s my first draft:

Goines On: Old classmates

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Goines received an email about another high school classmate who had passed on. In responding, he confused the deceased, whose name was Cliff, with another classmate whose face he was remembering. He realized this before he sent the email and even came up with the approximate name of the other one, Richard something. Another classmate on the email list told him who the Richard was – someone whose father had worked for her father.

Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [19]

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Chapter 19. Chaumont

The train ride was long but Claude, still hungover, slept through most of it. He awoke at one point and looked out the window at the passing countryside of farms and woods and small villages dotting the landscape. The rocking of the express to Chaumont soon put him back to sleep.
    Chaumont is a quaint city southwest of Pairs. Louis Jaudon, brother of the first Claude history records, started a fruit business back in 1781 that was passed down through the oldest son until, when our Claude arrived from Texas, Louis Jaudon III owned it and slept in the master bedroom.

Goines On: How times goes by

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Goines picked up his left shoe to remove its orthotic for use in his left walking boot, which was out in the garage, where he routinely readied himself for his daily morning walks. How many times had Goines transferred the orthotics? In how many pairs of shoes and boots and even sandals had he used them? He couldn’t remember in what year he had been fitted for the devices, on which he had become so dependent that he couldn’t walk far comfortably without them. Did he get them before they left Chapel Hill? That would make them at least eleven years old. The surrounding inner soles showed little wear for all the walking, transferring, walking, shoe-exchanging they had served.

All Over the Place: When the Storm Passes, This Is What’s Left

By Michael H. Brownstein

I am exactly like I am.
No water of mistrust here.
Swamps, perhaps.
Perhaps the heavy coil of wood
and bones to go with it,
the shadow of a new day
sun lipped; cloud lined,
the snail of curiosity:
the bee-sting of intellect.

Poetry & Portraits: Ephesian

Drawing by Susan C. Price

Ephesian
By Eric Meub

The stream was dry the day John brought me here –
A bony, dusty waning of the year –
But now I faced a flood to be traversed
Without upending on the slithering stones
I knew were underfoot, but couldn’t see —
Beyond a shifting blur of serpent tones.
(You’ll fear a fall when you’re as old as me.)

Goines On: Identity

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Goines had the nagging feeling that he wasn’t who he thought he was, that by his thinking about himself he was creating someone not himself, but different in many whimsical, sometimes fantastic ways. He was even more troubled by the implication of this: that he not only did not know who he was, but also could not possibly know, the only apparent avenue to knowing – thinking about himself, crafting sentences to formulate his thoughts – being closed to him as a false path, or many false paths, leading him to constructions, fictions.

Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [18]

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Chapter 18. Rich Man/Poor Man

True to his word, Ricardo went to work getting leases for J.W. Hankins. The knowledge that he was in competition with himself did not escape him. But, by keeping this part of his word he could justify double-crossing Hankins. If to no one else, at least to himself. He decided he would give Hankins a thousand dollars worth of work and then consider them even and himself free to go his own way with a clear conscience.

Goines On: High spirits

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Goines’ voice surprised him when he spoke his first words, a good-morning to his wife. He sounded hoarse, a clear signal that the cold he had finally begun to come down with, after almost a week back from Minnesota, might be worsening, descending, potentially, into his chest. On Mrs. Goines’ advice, he had already been inhaling albuterol several times throughout a day, and taking Mucinex and Claritin tablets.

All Over the Place: Study Hall

By Michael H. Brownstein











Only sometimes does homework enter the heart of the matter,
pen to paper, keyboard to screen,
a lack of ribbon for the brand new antique electric typewriter.
When the boat people want to leave the river for the lake,

they need to notify the people of the bridge to prepare for their passing.

Copyright © 2019 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s latest volume of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else, was published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018.

Goines On: Lottery ticket

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Walking back from the gym, Goines was still considering that Old Testament prophecy someone had mentioned, about people who by faith put “innocent” blood on the outside of their door and were thus separated and spared death. Surely such a thrilling prophecy called for a commemorative verse:

Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [17]

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Chapter 17. Paris Opera Ballet

After the second glass of wine and being introduced to the hundredth artist, Claude asked, “What are we going to do until my suit is ready? We have most of the afternoon.”
    Joc thought for a moment. “We can go see how far along Monsieur Eiffel has come with building his tower. Then we can go to the Paris Opera House. As patrons of the Opera Ballet, we have a special room backstage where we are entertained by the dancers. For a fee, most will give you private entertainment – if you know what I mean. Who knows, you may find a wife at the Ballet and save yourself the trip all the way to Chaumont.”