Charles Frenzel

Finally, all have arrived in the correct tower, in the correct suite, and we are enjoying very close fellowship with cheese, wine, and an athletic sour cream dip that springs from the toasted sesame wheat cracker and crash lands on Elaine’s bosom. I do not try to recover anything from the crash sight. Dick and […]

Once we get the lady reunited with the bottom half of her dress, we are fortunate to obtain an elevator loaded like a can of compressed anchovies. Someone has disconnected the overload alarm. Our lady of the shortened skirt trips over the two inch ledge created at the lobby level when our cage sags below […]

We stop in at the museum for refreshments and a quick look at exhibits of authentic dance masks and hand fans. I’m surprised to learn that the largest part of the collection comes from French artists who bought up the real masks at the end of the nineteenth century from travelers and collectors who foresaw […]

Outside the air crackles as crisp as a dry ginger snap. The sign at the corner alternates between time and temperature, but the glass appears to be broken and all it says is 0.-8F, which might mean 08, or 18, or 28. We do not know. I picture the inside of my lungs looking like […]

The lobby is furnished like a lodge, featuring large overstuffed chairs and comfortable couches. We are apprehended by two very friendly Rotarians designated as the greeters. The man is dressed in a dark business suit and a fur cap. He extends a limp hand towards Lydia and booms “Welcome to Anchorage.” A tall, raw boned […]

“Yesterday and today,” he says. “About forty eight hours.” A few flakes of snow melt on the windshield. A quick flick of the blades and they disappear. “Is it rough driving a cab in winter, here,” I ask. “Not too much different than Minneapolis,” he says. “I drive a cab here part time. It’s something […]

We go to Anchorage, Alaska for the installation of the new Rotary International District Governors. There was no mention of how we got to Seattle from Sacramento, California in the journal. The flight is an hour late leaving Seattle. Will Anchorage be there? Or will some warp in time declare Anchorage another dimension and will […]

Old Daniel was a riverboat rambler, unseeded with money, unlucky in love and unbreeded to marry, but gambler extraordinary until schemes busted; poisoned in the extremes by backroom fables, Black Labels, marked cards, and round tables. He was baptized under the down spout of Old Man, a plan that only a Maker could understand, and […]

Uptown in Bigtown New Orleans, one Of many brown dumpsters on Melpomene Breathes the sulphur smell of Hell. Guarding bins one to three is round Hard work. Of territory, you’ve got To know the story, else you roll foul Into Old Man and float downsea. Daniel searched for lunch and found A Spanish onion, an […]

The last bus finds no passenger waiting at my end of Twentyfirst Avenue. Slate shingles of overlapping leaves block the intrusion of the corner street lamp. Without a breath of air to stir the shades, when even old Who-owl is out of breath, the black furnace of the night burns my eyes with pale green […]

Spider wading in the Gulf, Underbelly sucking oil, eyes Gleaming from landing pads, Fish nibbling chitinous legs. Diesel organs pump blood, and Men, like aphids, gather The sugars of need.

So there weaver, fleeing fuzzy, gravitating two-ward ruin, similar to starchless spinach, ourselves shambling through doors sporting mysterious, complex knobs and stuff. Groping through the salad, the olive ajar with the eyes of Job kindled a sparkly prescience with a tongue twisting word knot like a level winding reel with a backlash of wild hair. […]

At night, when bricks are wet and cast iron lamp posts glisten with rough pebbles of cold rain and when the laughter from Ernst’s Café is out of reach, when bored with flame broiled pancakes and the walk from the Jax Brewery to the shelter of Janet’s screwery is just too damn far away; or […]

Hiking, not far from Pawhuska, I discovered an abandoned orchard and paused to listen to MBC, grasshopper static crackling, frogs in full screech. One fruitful apple tree bent down to me and asked if I were a mushroom filled with gloom, spore on the floor, as I lay in the grass of July. Thunder Bunny […]