ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM
                        
***BIO*** Jason Fisk lives in the suburbs of Chicago with his wife, daughter, a son on the way, and two dogs. He tries to find time to write between changing diapers and cleaning up dog doo. He is currently teaching English to students who would rather read graphic novels than learn how to write a proper sentence. You can visit his website at www.jasonfisk.com.
© 2008 zygoteinmycoffee Ink.
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The Farm
by Jason Fisk
A preteen summer
spent on my uncle’s farm
Hay bail hallways created to guide
the pigs from one barn to the other
I waited, leaning over the hay bails
watching intently
The pigs finally came
pissed as hell
my uncle chased after them
with the handle of a hoe
beating them if they stopped.
The irate pigs demolished
the hail bail hallway.
Pushing through it
jumping over it
Here - he handed me
the hoe handle
What am I supposed to do with this?
Hit ‘em in the fuck’n face like this

He hit one squarely in the snout, and it released
a sound between a scream and a squeal
We gotta get ‘em into the barn.
I took the hoe handle and watched
as the pig’s snout bled.
Don’t worry ‘bout it
they don’t have feelings


I was a grown man
the summer night he called
and asked me to hurry over
when he answered the door
a waft of whisky
flooded my nostrils
I saw a blood soaked rag
in the bottom of the deep sink
in the mudroom
his speech slurred
his voice was in pain
as his tongue rolled around
in his numb mouth
She just got on my nerves
said the wrong thing

He guided me to the bathroom
where she was crumpled
on the floor
with bloody bath towels
What the fuck did you do?
She and I were arguing
I ran to the phone
and dialed 911
he tried to push me away
I hit him squarely in the nose
with the palm of my hand
he fell / nose bleeding
I looked at his pig face
and wondered
if he felt that
June 2008
107