Black Petals Issue #108, Summer, 2024

Editor's page
Editor's Page
BP Artist's Page
BP Guidelines
Mars-News, Views and Commentary
A Tension Economy: Fiction by Adam Parker
Body Canvas: Fiction by James McIntire
Emergence: Fiction by M. W. Lockwood
Gibbous Moon over Manderson: Fiction by Daniel Snethen
Morning Rush: Fiction by Mark Mitchell
The APP: Fiction by J. Elliott
The Fanbase: Fiction by Gabriel White
The Pocket: Fiction by Randall Avilez
Laughter and the Devil: Fiction by Nemo Arator
Bed Bugs: Flash Fiction by Zvi A. Sesling
Not a Pebble: Flash Fiction by K. J. Watson
Sleepless: Flash Fiction by David Barber
The Abyss' Embrace: Flash Fiction by Daniel Lenois
The Dispossession: Flash Fiction by Alan Watkins
Unfinished Business: Flash Fiction by Charles C. Cole
Do Not Touch: Flash Fiction by Samantha Brooke
Ghost: Poem by Michael Pendragon
Dark Mistress: Poem by Michael Pendragon
A Pocket of Time: Poem by Joseph Danoski
Nothing in the Night: Poem by Joseph Danoski
The Last Tenant in a House out of Time: Poem by Joseph Danoski
Disassembly: Mine: Poem by Anthony Berstein
The Dream House of Abominations: Poem by Anthony Bernstein
7 Untitled Haiku: Haiku by Ayaz Daryl Nielsen
Time Eaters and 2 Untitled Haiku: Poems by Christopher Hivner
Mary and Polidori: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
Slither Away: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
The Hotel LaNeau: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
The Girl from Providence: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
Returning Home: Poem by Sophia Wiseman-Rose
The Good Stepmother: Poem by Peter Mladinic
Airtime: Poem by Peter Mladinic
Gloria: Poem by Peter Mladinic
There Was a Father: Poem by Peter Mladinic
Toll Booth: Poem by Leyla Guirand
This Hour: Poem by Leyla Guirand
Urban: Poem by Simon MacCulloch


Something completely different, just to see if anyone really reads Editor’ s pages…Weird shit that routinely goes through my mind:

Just once I’d like to have a taste of some of that coffee that gets run through a civet cat and pooped out in the jungle and costs hundreds of dollars per pound. Not because it sounds good, but just so I can say I did it. Bucket list deal, kinda like sky-diving and riding in an open-cockpit biplane…

The latest thing for Facebook to send me is advertising for every gimmick there is to “cure” impotence. Every kinda pump, pill, ointment and nostrum one could think of to make Willie do the hand jive. Do they not realize I’m 80 years old and really don’t give a big rat’s ass? I think in the span of my life, I’ve probably gotten my share…

“They” need to bring back more retro cars. I think a 70 Chevelle remake would be very cool, or a modernized GTO Judge. Of course, they’d probably screw it up and try to make it electric. I see Hertz has decided to rid itself of 20,000 electric cars and Toyota says electrics are not going to replace gas-driven models. Thanks, Common Sense, maybe there is hope for the world, after all.

I sometimes wonder if turtles consider themselves handicapped because of all the things they can’t do. Compared to other animals, they have very few capabilities. On the other hand, they’re always home, so I guess everything’s a tradeoff…

I’m reluctant to say that I hate anything in nature’s kingdom, but I truly have a hatred for Blue Jays. The only time I’ve ever been pecked on the head with serious animus was by a mama Blue Jay. One of her babies was blown out of a nest by a storm and my intentions were good—I was trying to give it a chance at survival. Didn’t matter. Mama flew down and banged me on my gourd hard enough to draw blood. Then, after we moved to the west side, we had Barn Swallows nesting on our front porch for two years, until the Blue Jays found them. Killed the babies and broke the eggs. I have a Blue Jay right now that screams at me every time I go out into my own back yard. That pellet rifle in my closet is lookin’ better all the time.

My skunks have disappeared. I had two that were coming around on a regular basis. I’d see them under the bird feeders several times a week. I named them Poopy-Slut and Fang-Boner. I suppose they probably got themselves killed by cars or some other animal that was very hungry and had no sense of smell…

I’ve been reading about some “yuge” (Trump word) object in space that is almost certain to hit the Earth a few years on down the road, probably after I’m dead and gone, but still…are we all set to go the way of the dinosaurs? Or are we smart enough to figure out a way to steer that sucker away from us?

I keep seeing ads for this new deodorant and they’re gabbing about “pits, buttcrack, underboob,” etc., things that advertisers were never allowed to even mention back in the day, and then they say this stuff is good for up to 72 hours. So, is it really intended for homeless crackhead zombies? I think the rest of us tend to shower a little more frequently than every three days. Maybe it’s designed for camping and hiking…

Vegans always seem to think they are “saving” animals. If you ever lived on a farm, though, you know that’s bull squeeze. Whenever a farmer plows a field to plant a crop of soybeans or whatever, the process pretty much kills everything in that field, mice, insects, voles, spiders, whatever happens to be living there at the time. So, I guess vegans are just saving certain animals and the hell with all the rest? Then, in order to protect the crop, it gets sprayed with insecticides. Oops. More death…wonder what the cuteness level of an animal has to be for folks to want to save it?

Wichita, KS


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