In Billings
By Daniel Romo


Said he always thought God would come into his life when he was older—
But you didn’t. I don’t blame you. Standing with his back leaned against
the kitchen counter, he ate a big steak holding it in his calloused hands like
fresh kill. He licked his fingers and belched when he was finished. That was
last night in Billings. This morning he ate a bowl of Corn Flakes for breakfast
and laughed while soy milk trickled down and evaporated into his lavish,
rustic beard. Quite funny. Even his Labrador he called “Moats-art” got a
kick out of it, howling in tune to the man’s own amusement. How ‘bout that
boy? Hee hee hee... And at noon when perfectly parted hair, short-sleeved
Mormons knocked on his front door, he dove to the ground like he did when
he heard Vietcong thunder. That was forty years ago in Hanoi, and said,
Please God. Don’t let them see me. Hee hee hee...


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Daniel Romo teaches high school Creative Writing, and lives in Long Beach, CA. He is an MFA candidate in poetry at Antioch University, and thinks gray sky the utmost inspiration. More of his writing can be found at danielromo.wordpress.com/ (Peyote Soliloquies)<