Previous Feature: g emil reutter

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. Widely published in the small and electronic press, he is the author of nine collections of poetry and fiction. To learn more, please visit


Lonely Nights

It was a place to go in times of trouble
drink away your haunts, failures. Pint
of beer, shot of bourbon send a round
to my beer buddies who always sent
one back. Tip the bartender who made
sure I didn’t send a drink to the wrong
gal. Chain smoke, chain drink, pint, shot
send another round out. Soon there were
fifteen markers on the bar by my beer.
Hit the head, slide on the floor, grateful
avoided a fall. At closing the door man
would chant, “Time to go,” out I went lucky
to get home, sat on the couch, mumbled
into the darkness.



She came to this bar for it was his bar
her eyeliner was thick, her ruddy skin
covered by foundation, her straw like
hair dyed blond. Thin frame covered
in skin tight dress, her boney knees
almost knocked. She took her place
at the bar and watched him hold
court at the corner. White Zifendel
after White Zifendel then gin after
gin, she fixed her gaze upon him.
He would point and laugh as would
his court until she stood, yelled at
him in slurred words. He grabbed
the girl next to him and walked to
the door, she followed yelling “I love
you.” The door slammed shut, she
didn’t notice the puddle on the floor
between her legs.


Chain Smoking Sloppy Drunk

It is a warm
September evening
and of course
unlike when it
is cold
the drunks gather
in front of
the door
they are chain
smoking and the
drama of the
evening spills out
on sidewalk,
four girls and
two guys sloppy
drunk and loud
blueish smoke hangs
in the air
above them
girls are loud
adjusting jeans as
they flirt in
slurred speech
guys take it
all in, watch
the girls
move around them
until one puts
his arm around
the wrong girl
and the other
guy decks him
girls roar laughter
walk away
guy gets up
shoves the other
both walk back
inside, just another
night of booze
and lost love.


Mascaro’s Alarm

I hear the announcement of morning’s arrival
diesel engine revving and revving as if a struggle
to stay alive. Birds go quiet in the trees as alarms
pierce the air, echo off the buildings. Arms unbend
steel forks slap the ground, alarms go quiet as the
forks pierce the channels in the box Glanz invented.

Constant revving and revving as the arms lift the box
over the man in the cab and then the bang and clang
bang and clang of items falling into the steel bed of
the truck, revving and revving as the packer blade
compresses along bronze shoes. The bang of the box
booms as it is dropped back into place. A brief moment
of quiet. Alarms sound again, revving and revving as
as the engine struggles once again in reverse.

The large red truck navigates it way through the small
parking lot, revving and revving, lurches onto the street.
Birds in trees sing once again, sound of leaves kissed
by wind fills the air as does the patter of rain against


All Hail! g emil reutter’s  short story collection, Thugs, Con-Men, Pigs & More (Red Dashboard LLC, 2014), is available for preview and purchase on Amazon. Simply click on the cover image below to learn more . . .

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