An Online Literary Journal for Poetry and Flash

Tag: auction

Auction Circus

Poetry by Patricia Hope

Under the Big Top of lights and steel,
gaping doors open at each end, the noise
rivals a cage of monkeys, sentinels to jungle
chaos. The auctioneer chants his numbers
while the spotters yell – YEAH!
Like Simple Simon come to spend his penny
the bidders vie for the wares. One forty-four
gets one, 159 takes two, do I hear five? Who’II
go five fifty? In the back, another ring of action
takes place at the concession stand. A fly crawls

across the only menu, which is tacked to the wall.
One saltshaker is passed around. The hamburgers
drip grease beside crinkle fries steaming hot from
the fryer, banana pudding is served in Styrofoam cups.
Looky here, we’ve got an Elvis knife complete
with autograph, the auctioneer yells and someone
asks if they took it down to Burger King to be signed?
I look around the room. Elvis might enjoy a place
like this, then I remember his whole life was a circus
and I decide he’d opt for more solitude in his old age.

People mill around as cardboard boxes fill up,
and cards printed with bid numbers become fans.
While men stand in the doorway spitting tobacco,
another table of treasure is pulled into place.
The clock ticks, the sun sets, a slight breeze
wafts through the crowd, thinner now, some
succumbing to the drawn-out process. Serious
buyers move closer to the front ready for the REAL
bargains. The Elvis knife sells for seven and a half
in between an angle grinder and a “million-candlepower”

light (I wonder who got the assignment for that striking
job?) I suppress the urge to giggle but no one else
in the room seems to question the light’s power.
After all, the bidding has shifted to walking
canes and umbrellas. Bidders scoff them up,
eager for rain now, some using the purchases
to lean on as they leave, treasures tucked under
arms and in boxes. The building is almost empty.
The tent is finally folded and everyone slips
                                   silently into the moonlit night.


Patricia Hope’s award-winning writing has appeared in the Anthology of Appalachian Writers, Guideposts’ Blessed by His Love, Chicken Soup for the Soul, Agape Review, Spirit Fire Review, Dog Throat Journal, American Diversity, and many newspapers, magazines, and anthologies. She has edited numerous poetry anthologies. She lives in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

Marilyn Monroe’s Lipstick

Poetry by Julie Evan Smith

She was good to me
Applying me with just the right amount of pressure
Never smearing me on in haste.
And when I disappeared in the act of kissing
It was always a sad farewell
As I liked the feel of her lips moving when she shaped words
And spoke in her soft voice.

Revlon retired my name after her death.
I am the last one of my kind
Collected after her passing
Along with receipts and gum wrappers
Furs and gowns and gloves
A frenzy of acquisition
By people greedy for the smallest part of her.


Author’s Note: According to www.juliensauctions.com, an item up for auction was one of Marilyn Monroe’s tubes of used Revlon lipstick in “Bachelor’s Carnation” dated 1947 and described as “a virtual time capsule of one of the star’s nights out on the town.”


Julie Evan Smith‘s work has been published online at On The Run Fiction and StreetLit. In addition to flash fiction and poetry she has performed personal essays at storytelling shows in Los Angeles and New York. She loves reading history, wearing boots, and eating candy corn.

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