BLACK FLOWERS

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Dream Sequence, ix / John Dorroh

1.

You are there with me at the concession counter buying some popcorn and sodas.  The cashier says

Fifty dollars. I say No way am I going to pay fifty dollars for two sodas and a container of popcorn. 

The cashier says You can come back for as many refills as you like. The sky turns orange and copperheads start falling from the sky. We start to run. You drop your heart and we bend over to scoop it up with a plastic cup. The sodas are gone but have been replaced with a pound and one-half container of super-sticky BBQ wings. You pull out a large dinner napkin from your back pocket and we spread it on the dirty concourse floor to have a picnic. A stadium official stoops to tell us that it’s against the rules to have a picnic in pedestrian traffic. We offer him some wings and he sits cross-legged and joins us. He opens his pocket to retrieve a Kleenex and a baby kangaroo hops out onto the concourse. We leave all of our belongings and help chase the kangaroo with the stadium official. The building starts to shake violently and we are told that everyone must leave.

2.

I was sitting at an outdoor cafe on some Greek island at sunset. The waves were gently breaking in the surf below, and the sun was beginning to disappear behind purple and salmon-colored clouds. I could smell hot grease and salt. I was waiting on my friend John so we could order dinner. I had a bottle of locally-sourced wine which was way too smooth. I little girl with flowers appeared, passing each table, saying something in Greek. When she reached my table, she tripped on my right foot and hit the stone floor face-first. Several people came to her rescue, and when she got up, she had a bloody lion face. She lurched for my throat with hungry fangs and I jumped toward the guardrail that separated me from a 200-meter fall along the rocky cliffs. I went over the railing! I was going down fast and could tell that my head was gong to hit a big gray boulder. I gritted my teeth and blacked out. I woke up in a clinic under a white sheet with my head sticking out. John walked in with a steaming plate of calamari and two forks. Where the hell were you? he asked. I’ve been looking everywhere.

3.

I had set up an army-green tent, rickety and full of holes, along the boardwalk of some beach town. This was part of a culinary week-end. I had just won 3rd place and $500 with my Lobster Mac ‘n’ Cheese. Prepared in a two-feet x four feet silver serving vat, I was using an ice cream scoop to fill up small paper cups with my delectable creation. At $3 a pop, I was going to make some nice spare change. I was almost out of plastic forks and asked the man in the next booth if he had some to spare. He glared at me and said that he should have won 3rd place, not me. Your dish is dog crap, he said. I was perplexed and still out of utensils. I didn’t know the man except for people calling him Mr. Dandy. A nice lady overheard my plight and handed me a Ziploc bag full of plastic forks. She didn’t say a word. I offered her a cup of my Mac and she wouldn’t take it. I’m allergic to shellfish she said. Later that night we saw each other in a restaurant/bar, and I motioned for her to come sit next to me. She did. We had so many things in common that it was scary. She was from a small city 20 miles from my house. We decided to get together next week at a restaurant not far from her home. Just as we were parting company, Mr. Dandy appeared and said Doreen is my wife!

John Dorroh's poetry has appeared in about 125 journals, including Feral, Os Pressan, River Heron, Big Windows Review, & Selcouth Station. Three of his poems were nominated for Best of the Net. When not writing, he is engaged in one way or another with food & its relationship to cultures.