I DREAMED I WAS PAT ROBERTSON

by Richard Baldasty


My sister collects snow globes, insists figures within are friends and family. Whether she truly believes or merely covets, it’s an abomination, not what’s meant by “be ye fruitful and multiply”.

Her favorite globe reads I Left My Heart on its base. Inside, a tiny Golden Gate Bridge , bare of cars, just two lovers entwined above water, rocks, fog, one eager shark.

I fake coughing. She leaves to get a menthol lozenge. I whisper into her San Francisco , declare anathema those little Satan pals, sentence them to jump. Presto! PTL! As of old, when Samson slew one thousand with the jawbone of an ass, heaven’s hero triumphs. Wahoo! Cowabunga!


Richard Baldasty’s poetry and short fiction have appeared in New Orleans Review, New Delta Review, The Apalachee Quarterly, Epoch, Willow Springs, Karamu, and other literary magazines. He was a Pushcart nominee in 2001 (submitted by the editors of Stray Dog). Work online includes publication in Raving Dove and Cafe Irreal. He lives in eastern Washington state, a short drive from Sarah Palin's hometown, Sandpoint, Idaho.
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