by Kevin Paul Miller
My mind is like a busy village now. It’s not the kind of place where tourists stop to buy quilts or local pottery. It’s more like a Village of the Damned. Little blonde ideas with piercing eyes gather together in conspiratorial cells. I liked it better when my mind was like a blues bar, where ideas moaned and wailed about coming home to find their lover in the arms of another idea, but the blues bar mind was labeled a public nuisance and closed down. You would think I’d have a say in these matters.
Kevin Paul Miller lives in Kansas City, MO. He writes short fiction, verse, haiku and related forms.