Tuesday, November 21, 2017


image from wildlifeanimals.blogspot.com


“Regardless, I am still passionate about 
grizzly bears.”---Timothy Treadwell.

It’s November, and my den is hollowed out. I
just feasted on four fat turkeys--ha--a few less
for man’s table. I pick my teeth with four inch
claws. My jaws are so strong I once bit through
a cast iron frying pan to get all the bacon grease.
I mated twice in August, and I’m ready for the
big nap.

They call me Bruiser--which appeals to me a 
hell of lot more than Ursus Horribilis. There are
only a couple of a dozen of us here in the North
Cascades. I range a couple hundred miles, 
sometimes checking out the foothills of the Rockies.
I was raised in the Yukon, but over the last decade
I’ve worked my way down here. I once spent a
year in Montana, but it was just too damn crowded;
hundreds of bears competing for sex and food.

I’m about 30, old for a Grizz--most of us check out
before we’re 25. I think it’s because some of them 
choose not to hibernate; stupid kids--afraid they’re
going to miss something. I’m left alone, which is how
I like it. I’m 9 feet tall, and weigh 880 pounds. I had 
a tussle with a rogue Sasquatch last year. He was 
about 8’ tall, and weighed in at a skinny 425. He was
pretty nimble, but they’re not good fighters; small jaws
and teeth, with no claws. I had to stand erect to battle
him. He gave up after I tore one of his arms off; made
a nice lunch.

I’m expecting a big blizzard this week, so I’m eating
everything that moves, from ants to coyotes. I tend to
hibernate for 5 months. At my age, I enjoy the rest--
but I’ll tell you what, when I emerge in April, I am
both cranky and real hungry.

In Spring the grizzly’s
roar causes critters to hide, cuz

they will devour all.    

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub

Monday, November 20, 2017

So Dense

image from frugalhomedesign.blogspot.ca

So Dense

If Tao is like a river, it is certainly good to know
where the rocks are.”--Ming-Dao Deng.

Geologists ain’t afraid
of no rocks,
they love
the hard stuff.

Slim women rock
their tight jeans,
but how do they
get them on?

Blues men gave
musical birth
to both
jazz and rock.

rocks in your head.
but not yet

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub Q44  

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Ode to Muscle

image from pinterest.com

Ode to Muscle

“If a writer has to rob memories of his mother, he
will not hesitate.”--William Faulkner

The last muscle car
I ever owned was
a 1973 Mustang, 
Pantera styling,
jet black & waxed,
a fastback, 
a 4-speed transmission,
and 400 horsepower
out of a 351 Cleveland V-8.

After a while though,
I began to realize,
it was damn heard to see 
out out the small back window,
it averaged 8 miles to the gallon.
and because it was a classic,
it was very hard to find parts.

Insurance was too high,
maintenance was prohibitive,
repair costs were outlandish,
and I banged it up twice
backing up blind.

Glenn Buttkus

Monday, November 6, 2017

Killer Kick

image from quintoquartobr.com

Killer Kick

if we become apathetic, art can kick our ass, give
us back conscience & focus.”--Erik Pevernagil.

Sunday got the blues
as I sat alone
watching the Seahawks

lose a game
to the Washington Redskins

Kicker Blair Walsh,
the man with a golden leg,
missed three field goals,

contributing mightily
to the loss,
all three kicks

wildly to the left.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub Q44

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Blackthorne--Scene 71

image from pinterest.com 


Cinemagenic Seventy-One


“When you have a child, the world has a 
hostage.”--Ernest Hemingway.

1(sound cue) harmonica & accordion. 
2(two-shot) Salina, over Wallace’s shoulder:
I am my father’s daughter.
Wallace, smiling : It’s just that you can’t close
your eyes, click your heels, and Thor disappears.
His kind of mean hangs in like colic. I think you 
should give some thought as to how to straighten
things out.
3(close-up) Salina : OK, Pop. I figured I would cross
that little bridge when I get to it.
4(medium close-up) Wallace : Damn, girl, you should
be fixing to find a way to let him down easy. He is not
used to being told No.
5(voice over) Salina: Well, there’s a first time for 
everything--followed by a chuckle.
6(sound cue) piano & harmonica.
7(cut to medium wide shot/exterior) An old buckboard
reined up out front. Johnny Eagle was driving it. A 
young black mustang jerked against his harness and 
the tall gray mule alongside him. Rod Buck pulled up
and stepped down off his huge roan. Wallace walked 
out on the porch, squinting into the east as golden rays
began to edge up over the sign on the CHINA DOLL.
Wallace wiped his liver-spotted calloused hands on his
clean apron.
8(three-shot) Wallace: Nice to see you. Did you run out
of chuck?
Buck: Among other things.
Wallace: Hey, John--then turned on his heel as the
Eagle returned his greeting with a silent nod.
Buck stepped up onto the porch: Do you want to 
come in, old brother?
Johnny: Not today, boss. I think I will wander down to
the cantina and shoot the buzzard shit with Mateo.
Buck: I’ll join you there later.
The Eagle jumped down from the wagon; Buck 
watched him making his way along the dusty street, 
watched how straight he carried himself, how his 
shoulder and arm muscles rippled as he walked.
9(sound cue) guitar & coronet.
10(two-shot) Wallace was in the doorway : So
what do you need on this fine morning?
Buck: I’ll need some paint for one--stepping into
the store behind Wallace--What have you got?
10(medium wide shot) Salina was still at the fabric
table. She straightened up and stared at Buck, not
pretending to work.
11(voice over) Wallace: What quantity & color?
12(close up) Buck: Enough to paint a rainbow on
your crapper.
13(two-shot) Salina, over Buck’s shoulder: What a 
colorful way of speaking. Good morning, Mr. Buck.
Buck: Good morning, Miss Salina.
Salina: Does Johnny Eagle work for you now? 
Buck: That’s what he tells me.
Wallace (as voice over) Blue, black, red, white and
green--a fine selection.
Salina: Fixing up the old place?
Buck: We stay in the bunkhouse for now. The house
needs a ton of work. After I get things presentable,
you might could come out for a visit.
Salina, smiling warmly: Yes, I might could.
14(sound cue) violin & flute.
15(two-shot) She returned to her fabric bolts. He 
spent an awkward moment considering what to say 
next when Wallace inquired:  What colors?
16(sound cue) heavy boot steps just before the front 
door swung open, awakening the bee hive of bells.
The Eagle rushed in, a bit out of breath: Boss, I think
you need to come with me right now.
17(three-shot) Buck: Hey, fierce one. I haven’t 
ordered anything yet--nor have I had time to ask
Miss Salina for a date.
18(medium close-up) Another smile from the lady.
19(two-shot) Buck: Just tell Mateo to wait a few 
Johnny: It’s Chatawa.
Buck turned and the two men tramped out of the 
store. Wallace shrugged his shoulders & followed
them to the doorsill. A large crowd had gathered

down at the auction corrals.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub OLN


painting by James Ryman 


“If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.”
--Tennessee Williams.

By day, I am nearly invisible as I bus tables and
wash dishes at Denny’s. I live in my grandmother’s
basement--a nice little apartment with it’s own
entrance. Gramm is hard of hearing, and for me
that’s a blessing.

By night, I troll the bus station, back alleys and
the gay bars. I’m a big handsome Swede, with 
long blond hair & deep blue eyes--looking like
Thor and shit. Though for years my sexual
preferences were conflicted, I seem to attract
gay men, so it’s just easier to score with them.

My father used to get drunk and beat the hell out 
of me, before he was stabbed & killed in a bar fight.
My mother was a crack addict, and she died when
I was 14, just after an older homosexual had given
me a ride from school, and raped me in his garden
shed. I could have stopped him, but hell, I enjoyed
the attention.

Five years ago I discovered that I preferred to have
sex with young boys who agreed to be mute and
non-responsive. I had a part-time job in a mortuary,
and I developed a real taste for necrophilia; but
most of the lover boys still made noise & moved

So I made the decision to start killing them, so 
that my sexual & emotional needs could be more
adequately satiated, I’m very strong, so strangling
them was the easiest & quietest solution. Soon I
became expert at cutting up their bodies in the 
bath tub, and dissolving them in barrels of strong
chemicals. Gramm noticed I burned a lot of incense.
I told her I was converting to Hinduism.

One bright day, I got to staring at the neatly sliced
up portions of meat, and out of nowhere, I fired up
my oven and made a delicious roast out of buttocks.
To date I have slain 37 young men, and eaten a 
dozen of them. The last seven of them as a lark, I
saved their heads in my refrigerator. As I sink deeper
into the darkness of depravity, murder, and sweet
cannibalism--I have no regrets. At some point I will
be caught, and that’s as it should be. I will probably
get 20 consecutive life sentences, and after a few 
months I will be cornered in the shower room by
several men & stabbed in the eyes.

I have become a
demon--every night is like

Halloween for me.

Glenn Buttkus

Monday, October 30, 2017

Compassionate Conflict

image from pinterest.com

Compassionate Conflict

“Kindness is a language the deaf can hear and
the blind can see.”--Mark Twain

Unfortunately, our kindness, like our compassion
and empathy, is that part of the human condition
that allows the unscrupulous among us to work
their cons, scams & lies--allows politicians to 
thrive, and lawyers to successfully defend the guilty.

I always feel the tingle of alacrity when a stranger
stops me in a parking lot, sharing some sob story,
asking for ten bucks for gas so that his pregnant
wife can get to the doctor; or those smiling sons
of bitches who come to my door offering bogus
services, or collecting data for a greedy corporation.

Yet if you approach me, then look me in the eyes,
tell me your situation. & I hear no alarms--I will 
give you food, a ride, or money, or all three. So,
yes, even though deceptions surround us, making
me paranoid, suspicious, or sarcastic--my heart
is still touchable.

Mighty maple first
puts on a show. then it

kindly shares its leaves.

Glenn Buttkus