intro page button current issue
vol. 1, issue 1
current issue button
archives button
editor's desk button
submissions button
links button


a poem by
Kirby Wright
> bio

The General

The general visits me today in prison. He tells me that, because he neglects his wife, it is easy for temptation. He says he found the boy I love and drove him to his villa. He holds a video and says everything was recorded through secret cameras. Muy bien, he goes, they do many positions. He threatens to play it on the wall and I begin to cry. The general says if I don’t learn to love him, the boy dies. After he leaves, I dig out a rock from the dirt of my cell and sharpen it against the manacles.

A day passes. I pray for the general to die. The only thing keeping me alive is believing the boy still loves me. I hear the general’s boots marching up the corridor. My fingers test the rock’s razored edge.


/ current issue / archives / editor's desk / submissions / links / bios / masthead / whimperbang, copyright 2003, Raymond Prucher /