Public Comment

The black cat and yellow dog disagree about birthday hats and furthermore, can’t stand each other.  At the microphone, each claims a monopoly on love.  Each speaks for three minutes.  A flock of confused hats–striped, polka-dotted, festooned with glitter–hovers near the ceiling, hopeful and preening.  A small tree sprouts in the corner of the conference room, careful not to obstruct the window, where another tree flourishes under abundant blue sky.  A congress of parrots streams through.  We didn’t see the last speaker, a juggler, remove his shirt, but now he stands shirtless before the committee, his pasty, flabby back to us, while five red rubber balls blur over his head.

Kathleen McGookey’s most recent books are Instructions for My Imposter (Press 53) and Nineteen Letters (BatCat Press).  Her work has recently appeared in Copper Nickel, Epoch, Glassworks, Hunger Mountain, Los Angeles Review, North American Review, and The Southern Review.  She lives in Middleville, Michigan with her family.