Home » Makebelieve Ballroom by Michael Pollick
Makebelieve Ballroom Michael Pollick

Makebelieve Ballroom

Michael Pollick

Published September 24th 2012
ISBN :
ebook
Enter the sum

 About the Book 

Poet and author Michael Pollick has selected a number of poems and microshort fiction pieces for an exclusive collection at Smashwords. Individual works in this collection have previously appeared in such literary magazines as The Iconoclast, MidwestMorePoet and author Michael Pollick has selected a number of poems and microshort fiction pieces for an exclusive collection at Smashwords. Individual works in this collection have previously appeared in such literary magazines as The Iconoclast, Midwest Poetry Review, MOSAIC and Will Work for Peace.Sample pieces from Makebelieve Ballroom:BROTHER JUDDThe fish could hardly be expected to remember us-Two sleep-dusted Ohio boys, working a pole with Brother Blake,methodically plinking the glass of Heritage Lake.He was a most agreeable fisherman, long since passed on,but he understood the principle of the thing itself-this sport of tricking one live into becoming a trophy or dinnerfor those other lives with nothing better to do.I loved Brother Blake, I really did.He of the Pentecostal faith (one God one Name one Baptism)who spoke kindly to my mother, as he rushed her sons to rattle the baitmans door-We need us some frantic cold red worms-We need us some possessed nightcrawlers-Do we got any of them salmon eggs anywhere?Fish dont bite on em anyway.(They know their own.)Once, I caught a beauty-a rainbow trout, with all the hiddencolors of the Lord, he said,and my friend, who had no graspon the subtleties of angling,bent the fish clean in two,just to show it could be done.Brother Blake, his patience at an end,said, Son, dont be foolish with those fish.So we put it back in the creel,feeling much like the fish must have feltwhen he felt that first tug.I dont fish much now at all.but occasionally I catch myself thinkingabout that elder of my childhood church,and start feeling a little foolishabout all the beautiful FishIve bent in two since then.MAKEBELIEVE BALLROOMand when all that remains ofour dimestore dances are scuffson aching linoleum,I shall consider you carefully,and know that we were gods once.this was how the rockefellersplayed it, all hot and closeenough to the bones-we blew eight to the bar,eight to the bar,on blistered rugs and bucklingstoreroom floors.and you were all fierce redsand polished whites,clapping and surging withthe pulses of Dorsey,whirling and crackling withthe promises of Miller,turning and wailing withthe heat of the vacuums.Today, I played the Dorseyonce more,and as the needle dancedback and forthon only a paper moononly a paper moononly a paper moon,I heard the creakingof the storeroomboards, and for onedying momentyou and I were spooning,alone and invincible,in the dust ofour makebelieve ballroom.BREATH OF A CHILDS UNDOINGSpring and breeze and such were oh so powerful then-I fiddled and I fiddled and I fiddledwhile Rome was still smoking-I danced and I whittledand I climbed and I giggled,and drank the finest of barrelled rainwater.I was no match for Earth, metaphorically speaking-She found me once at the end of a ramp,She reached for me at the height of my swinging career,She confounded me with her dandelions.I should not ask for better teachersthan Sun and breeze and such-for in their memorials are foundthe blocks of who we were-for in their branches are foundthe lilacs of our renovations,for in their arms is cradledthe breath of a childs undoing.(People should ask what I am doing here,all alone and uninvited.I should have asked what I had done here,so small and unrequited.)