The Transient Ones

BrockaFashion, History, Politics, RelationshipsLeave a Comment

In a child’s bedroom, the ceiling is painted navy. Glow in the dark or sparkly stickers are affixed above to give an illusion of sleeping beneath a galaxy of stars; to play pretend at falling asleep under a personal solar system. This child will likely grow up to like science, too. Environment predicts and enables so much.   There was one period during my elementary school years in which as many as thirty vintage hats were tacked to my bedroom ceiling. I have no idea how they were acquired, but when one has more than two of anything, outsiders view this as a collection in waiting and start giving you more of this thing. (no one needs this) I would lie there reflecting … Read More

BrockaThe Transient Ones

Lives of Others

BrockaFashion, Music, Poems, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

I hear the beat and it brings me back to you. We are dancing together in the living room. In our own little world -spinning each other, then pushing apart to individually croon into our imaginary microphones. We are putting on a show in the living room. Attendees are half engaged in muted conversation and half giving us attention. We sing alto and soprano off of one another and when we bellow out the moving, crescendo parts of the song, all attention fully focuses on us. Always. We concentrate the room. We are performers. Many of these people have little in common, but we brought them together.  ‘Oh Lacey, why are you afraid? Look how you get up in front … Read More

BrockaLives of Others

Starched and Proper

BrockaFashion, TravelsLeave a Comment

There is the hiss of the steam and the smell of fresh laundry; the mist of the starch before it stiffens. Her movements are methodical. She lifts and turns the shirt just so, pressing the point of the iron into any nooks and crannies. She smokes a cigarette while she irons. The glass ashtray sits on the edge of the board. Her cigarette spends more time dangling from one corner of her mouth than being smoked. She only waves it over the ashtray seconds before the accumulated weight of ashes fall. Her husband sits in his black slacks and white wife beater at the Formica kitchen table. He is waiting, reading the newspaper too close to his face. ~When I am given this … Read More

BrockaStarched and Proper

We Bang Bang

BrockaFashion, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

Back in the 80’s, there were a group of apartment complexes close to the most well known university in Dallas. One in particular was situated to serve not only the students who could afford to live off campus but the uptown theater crowd, the downtown employees, and the teachers of the school. Within this complex, a smaller, more exclusive center existed. A first-floor apartment had been converted into the manager’s office, and this office was part of a circle of two-story apartments which wrapped around a lush courtyard. In the center of this courtyard sat a water fountain; always running soothing sounds. The fountain was surrounded by a variety of plants, as well as sculpted blocks of concrete to keep … Read More

BrockaWe Bang Bang

Wannabes

BrockaArt, Fashion, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

There’s an old part of town southwest of Dallas, called Oak Cliff. The oldest homes are stately, dark, and Victorian. They sit on large plots of land or high up on hills. The neighborhood has always been older families, as well as working class. It is now predominantly Mexican, with expansive Mexican immigrant communities. It has since plateaued economically but went through ten years of solid gentrification. In the entire metroplex, this was the first place to embrace the hipster aesthetic: farm to table dining; breweries; weekend markets; poetry-reading, folk music-playing bookstores.  As the home values have skyrocketed and new housing has taken shape around the walkable shops and dining, the poorest have moved further away from the center. Out of … Read More

BrockaWannabes