by Carla Joy | Mar 14, 2018 | Archives, Poetry
Coffee Cafe Customers: The Jock His athletic build bursts from the confines of his fragile cafe chair Like the bulging, cloth-bound collection Of models in twisting poses Drawn by Leonardo Swift pen marks capture The essence of movement His legs protrude From satin...
by Carla Joy | Mar 14, 2018 | Archives, Poetry
Coffee Cafe Customers: The Hippie He stands erect with a white wizard beard and long snowy hair neatly pulled back in a band. He is wearing a crisp linen shirt and creased khaki pants and burnished cowboy boots. He looks like a leather-bound collector’s edition...
by Carla Joy | Mar 8, 2018 | Archives, Poetry
Herding Cats! That’s what subbing for Kindergarten is like. And today there was one boy who refused to do a single worksheet. He just sat there and stuck all his crayons between his fingers. When I asked him to start working, he calmly ripped his worksheet in...
by Carla Joy | Mar 3, 2018 | Archives, Prose
A Hidden Gem Today I subbed for a 5th grade class at a small school nestled in a low-income neighborhood on the south east part of town. Stray dogs wandered the streets as I pulled into the parking lot. There were no painted murals of mascots on the gray, cement...
by Carla Joy | Feb 27, 2018 | Archives, Poetry
Columbine Nursery Rhyme Oh, Johnny brought a gun to school His teacher cried, “You are a fool! I also have a gun,” she said And shot dear Johnny in the head. Then little kids cried out with glee “We love a school-wide shooting spree! There’s really nothing now...
by Carla Joy | Feb 26, 2018 | Archives, Uncategorized
I spend many late afternoons at a local bookstore cafe, watching the customers study, relax, and relate. I am often reminded of other writers—Hemingway and Fitzgerald—who frequented the cafes of Paris and gained inspiration from their clientele. In my own humble way,...
