Yellow Mama Archives II

Wayne F. Burke
Acuff, Gale
Ahern, Edward
Allen, R. A.
Alleyne, Chris
Andes, Tom
Arnold, Sandra
Aronoff, Mikki
Ayers, Tony
Baber, Bill
Baird, Meg
Baker, J. D.
Balaz, Joe
Barker, Adelaide
Barker, Tom
Barnett, Brian
Barry, Tina
Bartlett, Daniel C.
Bayly, Karen
Beckman, Paul
Bellani, Arnaav
Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc
Beveridge, Robert
Blakey, James
Booth, Brenton
Bracken, Michael
Burke, Wayne F.
Burnwell, Otto
Campbell, J. J.
Cancel, Charlie
Capshaw, Ron
Carr, Steve
Carrabis, Joseph
Cartwright, Steve
Centorbi, David Calogero
Cherches, Peter
Christensen, Jan
Clifton, Gary
Cody, Bethany
Costello, Bruce
Coverly, Harris
Crist, Kenneth James
Cumming, Scott
Davie, Andrew
Davis, Michael D.
Degani, Gay
De Neve, M. A.
Dillon, John J.
Dinsmoor, Robert
Dominguez, Diana
Dorman, Roy
Doughty, Brandon
Doyle, John
Dunham, T. Fox
Ebel, Pamela
Fagan, Brian Peter
Fillion, Tom
Fortier, M. L.
Fowler, Michael
Galef, David
Garnet, George
Garrett, Jack
Graysol, Jacob
Grech, Amy
Greenberg, KJ Hannah
Grey, John
Hagerty, David
Hardin, Scott
Held, Shari
Hicks, Darryl
Hivner, Christopher
Hoerner, Keith
Hohmann, Kurt
Holt, M. J.
Holtzman, Bernard
Holtzman, Bernice
Hopson, Kevin
Hubbs, Damon
Irwin, Daniel S.
Jabaut, Mark
Jermin, Wayne
Jeschonek, Robert
Johns. Roger
Kanner, Mike
Karl, Frank S.
Kempe, Lucinda
Kennedy, Cecilia
Keshigian, Michael
Kitcher, William
Kompany, James
Kondek, Charlie
Koperwas, Tom
Kreuiter, Victor
Larsen, Ted R.
Le Due, Richard
Leotta, Joan
Lester, Louella
Lubaczewski, Paul
Lucas, Gregory E.
Luer, Ken
Lukas, Anthony
Lyon, Hillary
Mannone, John C.
Margel, Abe
Martinez, Richard
McConnell, Logan
McQuiston, Rick
Middleton, Bradford
Milam, Chris
Mladinic, Peter
Mobili, Juan
Mullins, Ian
Myers, Beverle Graves
Myers, Jen
Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl
Nielsen, Judith
Onken, Bernard
Owen, Deidre J.
Park, Jon
Parker, Becky
Pettus, Robert
Plath, Rob
Prusky, Steve
Radcliffe, Paul
Reddick, Niles M.
Reedman, Maree
Reutter, G. Emil
Riekki, Ron
Robson, Merrilee
Rollins, Janna
Rose, Brad
Rosmus, Cindy
Ross, Gary Earl
Rowland, C. A.
Saier, Monique
Sarkar, Partha
Scharhag, Lauren
Schauber, Karen
Schildgen, Bob
Schmitt, Di
Sesling, Zvi E.
Short, John
Simpson, Henry
Slota, Richelle Lee
Smith, Elena E.
Snell, Cheryl
Snethen, Daniel G.
Steven, Michael
Stoler, Cathi
Stoll, Don
Surkiewicz, Joe
Swartz, Justin
Taylor, J. M.
Temples. Phillip
Traverso Jr., Dionisio "Don"
Turner, Lamont A.
Tustin, John
Tyrer, DJ
Varghese, Davis
Verlaine, Rp
Viola, Saira
Waldman, Dr. Mel
Weibezahl, Robert
Weil, Lester L.
Weld, Charles
White, Robb
Wilhide, Zachary
Williams, E. E.
Williams, K. A.
Wilsky, Jim
Wiseman-Rose, Sophia
Woods, Jonathan
Young, Mark
Zackel, Fred
Zelvin, Elizabeth
Zeigler, Martin
Zimmerman, Thomas
Zumpe, Lee Clark


by Wayne F. Burke


“Well Deke,” Louie said, as he bent his head to climb up into the pickup truck, “I am going to go down to the Oasis and get drunk and then I am going to Willies and see my girl.”

          Deke snorted disdainfully. “Your girl! Jesus Christ, can you imagine if you brought her home to see your mother?”

           “Hey, it is cheaper than a date,” Louie said. “Fifty bucks ain’t bad,” he argued. He started the pickup. “What the hell. What else are you supposed to do? Read friggin’ PLAYBOY?”

          They drove down a dirt road past a host of trailers and then below a railroad overpass.

          “You got it easy,” Louie commented. “You got a wife. Me—what do I have?”

          “Masturbation is better,” Deke said, grimly surveying the scenery of junk yards heaped with industrial rubbish.

          “Yeah, sure it is,” Louie said.

          “It is! Christ, I am telling you! I would rather beat off than go with the old lady! That’s no shit.” He lit a Camel non-filter cigarette. The cigarette looked tiny between his huge fingers.

          Louie cut a laugh short after a glance at Deke. Deke looked at his cigarette as if in wonderment of how it had arrived between his fingers. He took a quick puff and blew the smoke out as if trying to get rid of it. “I am serious,” he stated.

          Louie looked at Deke: Deke’s massive cinder block-sized head scraped the roof of the cab. He turned to Louie. “I am serious!” he barked. His eyebrows arched below the brim of his ball cap—MACK TRUCK written across the front.

          “Okay, okay,” Louie conciliated. His face became unnaturally grave. “I know you are serious.”

          “I AM. I AM TELLING YOU. I AM SERIOUS,” Deke shouted.  “I am considering the gay scene,” he sputtered. “Seriously considering it!”

          Louie fought to wipe the smile off his face.

          “I AM! I am thinking about checking out the gay scene!”

          Louie pulled the truck into the Oasis parking lot.

          “It can’t be any worse!” Deke angrily flicked his butt out the truck window.


          The naked girl lay on her back on the mattress on the floor of the small room. Louie looked at her while he pulled his clothes off. She had a snouted face with heavy Slavic features. Everything about her was big: big shoulders, big breasts, big hips, big and solid-looking barrel-shaped legs. Big everything—even her face was big—too big for the little puckered mouth and small eyes. She watched Louie throw his work boots into a corner, on top of a pile of work-dirty clothes—all that was in the room besides the mattress and a clock radio next to the mattress.

          “We got to make this fast,” Louie said, approaching the girl. “Where is Deke?”

          The girl smiled with her eyes as she looked between Louie’s legs. “He is home,” she said.

           Louie lay down length-wise on top of her. Like a stick on a slice of bread. His white butt shone between the spread of the beer-barrel thighs.

          He guided himself into her; she moaned. He stroked once, twice, then froze; he cocked an ear toward the door opening. A noise on the stairway. He exchanged a frightened glance with the girl. The heavy tread of footsteps grew louder: the feet crushing each wooden step. Louie felt himself shrivel; he scrambled over the leg and slid his hand beneath the mattress, feeling for his .22 pistol. The girl pulled the blanket over herself. The staircase groaned. Louie swallowed hard and looked wildly around the windowless room, seeking an exit.

          Deke’s broad shoulders filled the available door space. He stared blankly at the couple.

          Louie felt his heart thumping; his sweaty hand gripped the handle of the gun.

          Deke blinked twice, as if trying to comprehend the scene. He opened his mouth to speak, then drew his lips together. He turned away with a disgusted wave of his hand at his old lady.

          He began to trudge back down the stairs.


Wayne F. Burke's fiction has appeared in Alien Buddha magazine, Dumpster Press, The Gihon River Review, Puckerbrush Review, Synchronized Chaos, and elsewhere. He is author of a short story collection, Turmoil and Other Stories (Adelaide Press, 2020). He lives in Vermont (USA).

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