Scintillas

By Patrick Covington

It has something to say.

--Anonymous

Ex-talent scout, ex-singer, and ex-actor conjured up some eclectic introspective poetry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662463341

Book preview

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Scintillas

Patrick Covington

Copyright © 2022 Patrick Covington

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-6333-4 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-6334-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Ratings

Teacher, Teacher: I Declare…

Snowball

Pretty Poison

Absolution

Van Gogh

Me

Once again, for Bill.

This is my mind, open to blank paper. These were meant for Christmas. Enjoy…

Ratings

I like the one where Jane Fonda described going on a picnic without a picnic basket. Feast anyway.

Halloween

James Arness should have played Michael Myers; he was the Thing from another planet. I read credits.

Family Circle Magazine

Whoever heard of peanut butter pie? I did. Peruse. Serendipity can astound.

Dependability

Babies scare the daylights out of me. All they do is depend.

Favorite Ad

Got milk? I get the brownie point for why. It’s cold refreshing and everyone should enjoy it. Orientals are punished: lactose intolerant. Calcium. What bad thing can I say against strong bones and teeth? Osteoporosis may be a constant threat to all. Sip some for me.

Teacher, Teacher: I Declare…

Mister Bill is my comprehensive final; I have read books and observed life: real and on TV.

Love…hope…sharing in apartment #3084.

Breaking bread. I didn’t appreciate the meat that we cooked and consumed together.

Memories of total eroticism now fill my brain: what is the basis of my fear of intimacy—that it won’t happen again? Bullshit, nail it on the head.

Tickled

Silence is the main staple in our lives: What we do and don’t do defines reality. I ask other people about him. Conversations when I’m not me slowly seep back and… Houston, we have a problem. Words, words, words. Screw Shakespeare. I knew the guy.

Time is an enemy and a friend: I looked forward to celebrating ten years with him, and I think we’re ready to clock twenty years of togetherness yet apart. What is time?

His Eyes

I stare at his eyes (weird). They watch, waiting for the world to just happen. They snapped back at me once. TV is my enemy. Occasionally, pet makes them drop. Wink finally—he hasn’t yet. His eyes, his eyes, his eyes. He tried to read a western once. His paint-by-number was imperfect: What is? I discern the truth. He smiles with his cheeks.

Can of Worms

I doubt my sanity. There are questions with no answer. Friends, family, and therapists don’t know. I’m going fishing.

Yams

They are my favorite snack. I put two cans on the shopping list each week. I eat them for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Thanksgiving any time? You bet.

If you are suicidal, piss your pants. You will feel soiled and relieved. Been there, done that. It works.

Midnight Oil

I stay up all night to sing to my lover.

A freak that sings?

A jukebox?

A serenader?

No, a