| Thunder Sandwich #17
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 dweeb by jeff filipski |
| They Keep the Alligator They keep the alligator chained to a table in the dining room. He is mostly harmless unless he's hungry so they feed him chicken parts from the brood they raise in the yard. Happy to have him somnolent and fat, they imagine the fine pair of boots he will make, and that matching hat band. Joys of Testosterone My fall off a mountain bike into poison oak turns me into the "Blob." Can't sit down. Doc prescribes testosterone, stressing dosage must be precise. The spec sheet mentions: sleeplessness, weight gain. Black moustache? I am not so faithful. The rash returns. I brace myself for a full regimen. This time I will adhere. Once the rash retreats, I 'm ripe to ride on the mountain where Levon and I married. I thunder uphill like a friendly wind is shoving me. As warned, I am two pounds greater, throw it down the technical runs of my world's favorite trail, rattling on the boys' heels. My big grin is consuming me. Before the little white bitter tablets I used to think chocolate was it. I begin to dread the end of testosterone. Not to mention the sex. |
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| ISSN: 1534-4037 |
Edited by Jim Chandler & Haze McElhenny
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