Richard Weaver
Anecdotal antidote
The sofa has come unhinged. I mean to say it will not be
rearranged. By that I mean it is deranged. Will not listen
to reason. Flatulates when the words feng shui are uttered.
There's no mention of unmanageable insolence in the manual.
No warning of hostility towards those who might seek to be seated
on its inviting exterior. Offerings of replacing its original plastic
coverings, kept in case, were found faulty where fault might be
found, and were rebuffed. It has ejected its inner workings, spewed
forth the hidden mattress, and extended itself from wall to wall.
Late at night we hear it battling with the 2x4s and support beams.
We hover in the bathroom, waiting for a tornado that will modestly
leave us behind at our bodily tasks. Surely, a recall is in our future,
assuming the house still stands after the sofa has escaped.
Bio
The author hopes to one day once again volunteer with the Maryland Book Bank, CityLit, the Baltimore Book Festival, and return as house writer at the James Joyce Pub. His other pubs: North American Review, crazyhorse, New England Review, Southern Quarterly, Loch Raven Review, & Poetry. He's the author of The Stars Undone (Duende Press, 1992), and provided the libretto for a symphony, Of Sea and Stars (2005), performed 4 times to date. Recently, his 150th prose poem, was published. He was one of the founders and PE of the Black Warrior Review.