LEFTOVERS

I used to deal with the body and blood of Jesus, on a Sunday, kneeling over it. I was mostly an introverted quiet kid and Jerry was stud muffin. I lifted weights in gym, but only my legs got bigger. Jerry had rock hard cleavage. His hair was perfect. He wore a gold chain when he knelt over the body and blood of Jesus. We shared the leftovers in the backroom, after.

He is a prose poem about those early glory days as a teenager in Vegas. From The Green Monk. It is called “Leftovers.”

“Leftovers” by Marcus Slease

Published by Marcus Slease

Born in Portadown, Northern Ireland, Marcus Slease has made his home in such places as Turkey, Poland, Italy, South Korea, the United States, Spain, and the United Kingdom – experiences that inform his nomadic surrealist writing. His latest book is Never Mind the Beasts (Dostoyevsky Wannabe 2020).

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