Messages

by Pete Mladinic

In the city messengers in long black coats

scuttled across an avenue.  Lizard asked

Uncle Baxter what were the messages.

You are alone, as I am; we are together

and alone is in all of them.

But the details only the messengers know.

Soon ones to whom they’ll be

delivered will know. It’s like the time you,

perched on my shoulder, saw me shift gears

in a crane, and a ball on a chain crumbled

a stone wall.  It’s like the time in palm shade

at St. Kitts I sat in a lounge with a tall green

drink in my hand, lost in War and Peace

as you slithered around sandcastle motes

kids built and abandoned, and the time

you told me your favorite bowling team,

your favorite soup, your favorite rainforest.

It’s like the time you made eye contact with

my German shepherd Lucky, he almost bit

you as you slithered across the room,

and the times Lucky got old I helped him

up the stairs, and the night I had him put

to sleep. You watched Wrestlemania; Buddy

Rogers dropkicked Haystacks Calhoun.

I lit a cigarette and stared out the window. 

It’s like the time you and I were in a place

of rocks and shadows.  I shouted and only I

could hear, with no one around for miles.

River Deep, Mountain High

by Pete Mladinic

You want to go to New Zealand but can’t

because of the Covid, but can, in your mind,

not only imagine but remember.

You were in New Zealand, New Zealand

is in you, as you go about your days

and nights helping animals in need.

So many, as you said, it’s a teacup

in the ocean, your teacup.  As we know

money helps, with money we help

and there’s never enough money, still

some help is better than none.  Imagine

what Jeffrey Epstein could have done

with his fabulous wealth.  Animals

he could have helped.  He squandered,

this fabulously rich person ended in a cell

at Rikers, and lost ultimately the most

valuable thing, his own life.  More recently

Phil Spector died in prison, a fitting end

for a human monster.  A creative genius

who wrote “To Know Him Is To Love Him,”

“River Deep, Mountain High”

and much more.  He had all royalties

to all his music.  Maybe for years

in his cell he was able to remember, imagine

and revisit the person he was before

he picked up a gun and shot someone

in the face.  You hear of rich people

in prison living well.  For a while Spector

had talent and fame, and love, maybe.

Like Epstein he ended with nothing.

But you dip your teacup in the ocean,

that’s something.  An act of courage.

Side View Mirror

by Pete Mladinic

You’re thinking about Spencer’s The Faerie Queene

and how, twenty years ago at a reading

an academic poet, who taught Spencer in university

classes, said Spencer had a lot of trouble

with reality. You’re in a Ford dealership

for a new sideview mirror for your 150 pickup. Weather

people on TV report conditions across the country.

It would be easier thinking about Spencer

sipping a diet coke in a fast food restaurant.  Easier

in a city park or while waiting to speak with a loan officer

at a bank.  Maybe the people giving the weather,

one or two of them, have read The Faerie Queene.

Maybe the academic poet still teaches Spencer.

Maybe The Faerie Queene is as fresh and vital to her

today as it was when she herself first read it.

Maybe, since that reading night twenty

years ago, she’s found new meaning in it.

Maybe she’s read Spencer in Cincinnati

and in Detroit.  You yourself must look into it.

Sent to us on: April 9, 2021

How will the Coronavirus Pandemic shape storytelling for the years to come? 

Calling all Dispatchers!

With support from the California Arts Council, San Francisco Creative Writing Institute will present Dispatches from Quarantine: hybrid storytelling events and writing workshops. 

We will be featuring film and tv writers in August 2023!

We have been broadcasting the public readings and discussions on our youtube channel as well as hosting creative writing workshops with writers from diverse genres. The project will continue to be interactive as we will encourage viewers/participants to send in their “dispatches” to be published on our blog, keeping it alive as a living document.

 We invite you to submit a dispatch: 

Suggested Theme:

What is your Covid story? How will you tell it? 

You can send submissions in any format to us via email at: All genres will be considered for publication on the blog. submissions@dispatchesfromquarantine.co  The theme should be somehow related to this time of Coronavirus. We are particularly interested in posts/ideas/writings from 2022-23.

Submissions can be sent by email to: submissions@dispatchesfromquarantine.co

—