Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Do not fold, spindle, tear or mutilate
my belief in basic human goodness
if we have a chance to make decisions
on behalf of the public population.
Don’t set it ablaze, even if you’re
only following orders. Being an employee
doesn’t absolve one of moral weight.
Do not gas, bomb, flood or starve out
my core faith in other people. It’s well
and good that we believe empathy
can stage a comeback out there.
Don’t evict the central tenets
of a rusted idealist. A lover
of imperfect human beings,
who knows the score, who can see
the situation; but loves them anyway.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Fiction in 2019 and the Best of the Net in Poetry in 2018. Recent work appears in The Lake, Dunes Review and The Museum of Americana.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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The removal aspect isn’t in his job description,
but a neighbor knocks at 3 a.m. and says
her mother passed over. Can the Sexton
lift the body and drive her to the funeral home?
The mother had asked in advance. She’d rather
be handled first by someone she knows well,
instead of mortuary assistants. A preference.
He agrees. They’re nice people, a long time
acquainted. At his age though the lift
is between difficult and a catastrophe.
But he manages. He supposes a person
is still hanging in there, if at least a couple people
think of them as capable and young. Perspective.
The deceased is delivered across town,
to the professionals. The Sexton’s prepared
to hoist her from his back seat, but two
towers of men step in. The funeral director
hands him a coffee. They take a minute
to talk, touch on highlights of local news.
If you’re up at 3 or 4, engaged in heavy lifting
when someone takes leave, further sleep
makes little sense. The Sexton stays
wide awake. He helps with granting wishes,
what he can, and then he has his day.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Fiction in 2019 and the Best of the Net in Poetry in 2018. Recent work appears in The Lake, Dunes Review and The Museum of Americana.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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God in a convincing undercover outfit
walks the streets of this fair city, seeing all,
assessing progress and repair priorities.
He listens to prevailing chatter, perhaps asking
himself exactly what he hopes to accomplish.
Does he have the necessary people in key roles?
The job would be perfect for micro-managers,
but God (damn it) is a generalist. An ideas man,
a Creative type. God coined outstanding slogans
but his beings need a diplomat, an adult
in the room to appeal to. A just Justice would be nice.
They crave an honest economist. Seeing the city
without being recognized, God can speculate
what will work well on new banners. Sayings.
We could complain, point out dysfunction,
societal entropy. We could picture an idyllic existence
for all of us, if he had a knack for running things.
If he had a gift. It’s tough to even criticize the guy.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net by in 2018. His chapbook Life-wish Maintenance is posted at Right Hand Pointing. Recent work appears in: A New Ulster, Clementine Unbound, The Lake, and Star 82 Review.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Class of 2019, you’ve put in 4 to 6 hard years of scholarship.
Today when you leave this university, it’s your time to soar!
But not too high or anything. That, young friends, is dangerous.
The results are unpredictable. So yes, soar, briefly. You’ll know
what flying feels like. But then find a safe landing field,
and stay on the ground. If you must, soar on holidays,
a few yards should be sufficient. Let’s not get crazy
and crack our newly educated noggins, because
we didn’t have the sense to wrap up a soaring session.
The world you graduates are going out into is busy
and ever-changing. Keep as much the same as possible.
I do. It obviously works for me, and my many businesses.
Don’t waste thought wondering if we can reform
our institutions. Those who go along with the current system
do the best and bang their heads least. The Complaints Box
empties into the trash receptacle. No, no one reads them,
there’s no action following. Welcome to reality!
Kids, I’m here to save you needless strife. Sure thing,
climb the tallest mountain, since it’s there in front of you.
If you wish to glide from the peak, glide. Soar a second,
but then catch a ledge. Get yourself to safety
and then file that day away. A nice memory.
Let some undisciplined nabob fly into the sun.
Tomorrow you’ll have to work. Hit the grind.
Congratulations, grads! Celebrate briefly.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net by in 2018. His chapbook Life-wish Maintenance is posted at Right Hand Pointing. Recent work appears in: A New Ulster, Clementine Unbound, The Lake, and Star 82 Review.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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She ate granola, I had scrambled eggs.
Wind made trees’ limbs scrape the house,
though I thought I’d trimmed them back.
At nine-fifteen low-angle sun
back-lit her dimensionality.
My shirt was denim.
She wore gold hoop earrings.
They jiggled when a truck down-shifted
on the highway outside and she said,
“I can’t be here anymore.”
The place still smelled of dinner
from the previous night (pot roast).
The door knock was my opening
to say a proper benediction,
but gravity tongue-tied me.
The door shut behind her
condemning as a coffin lid.
She didn’t slam it, though our calendar
fell from force absorbed.
It was nine-sixteen.
I couldn’t see the problem’s genesis
from the microscopic facts.
“Free Bird” blasted from a stereo
(Pioneer™) receding down the highway
(tar and cinder). I had dishes to wash
(Corningware™).


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Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. Recent work appears in: Dime Show Review, The Lake and Star 82 Review.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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You are cordially invited to my crib for Netflix and chill.
I will be there for ya, critiquing subtle plot holes
implementing the Tickle Party Strategy,
because it’s proven effective in tight spaces
on lackadaisical February Saturdays.
Adult beverages will be on hand and whatnot,
if indeed you’re one who digs the Whatnot. Partakes?
Whatever the kids are saying re: the whack-tobac these days.
Massages are free of charge. At heart I’m a helper,
So I’m at my best when helping others. My down covers
are warm while it’s sleeting out of doors.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. Recent work appears in: Dime Show Review, The Lake and Star 82 Review.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Over-worked domestic spies
finally take time off for golf,
because Alexa’s listening.
It dazzles with circus tricks.
In return it documents secrets,
sells them for profit. Next up?
Alexa as a prosecution witness.
It knows locations
of the buried bodies.
This ear that turns on lights
can also call 911.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. Recent work appears in: Dime Show Review, The Lake and Star 82 Review.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Under the overhang
a misguided dragonfly
buzzes a sweat bee lodge
(Local # 303). Evening wanders off
into an almost-anonymous night,
unaccompanied, without leave or fare thee well.
Any minute these soffit-colonizing insects
will cease pro forma conflicts,
suspend operations on account of darkness.
Truce, détente, until tomorrow;
I’ve got to fly too.


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Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. His chapbook Life-wish Maintenance is posted at Right Hand Pointing. Recent work appears in: The Magnolia Review, Praxis and Soft Cartel.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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It’s not as issue of bravery or fighting against fear
when Nightswimmer Junior crosses open water.
She acts out of resolution. Picks a stretch
and next she’s doing it. Sometimes she’s too winded
by the time she hauls up on the far shore,
but that’s the life-wish in action. The triumph
of the urge to Be Here Now over any notion
rooted in self-destruction. When it’s over
and she’s back home, she smiles from knowing
what’s she’s managed out there. That satisfaction expands
because her swims are off or under the radar. Or sonar,
she refines, staying off the underwater scanner.
Floating it. She’s a colossus who disguises herself
as an average person during daylight. A fish
that looks so human no one’s checked for gills.


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TODD MERCER was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. His digital chapbook, Life-wish Maintenance, appeared at Right Hand Pointing. Mercer’s recent work appears in Literary Orphans, The Magnolia Review, Praxis and Zero Flash.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Nightswimmer Junior and her eponymous predecessor
get their kicks from risks, love life more from it.
After their platonic friendship’s rolled a couple years
They take a month’s bills money to the casino.
When they slink out the exit, ninety-nine percent of it
has gone to fund the programs of the Grand Traverse Band
of Odawas & Chippewas. Nightswimmer, on his honor
retired from the rip-tide adventures says to Junior,
“Screw the promise. Let’s go swim.” Only then
can he clear his head of new financial anxiety.
That’s them at 4 am spotted miles off Charlevoix
by a John Cross Fishing vessel, logged on the report.
She crawls, he backstrokes. He needs more oxygen
than he used to, but hey, not bad for an old man.
He assures Junior she won’t need to drag him
to land. This one illicit swim, then the end of gambling.


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TODD MERCER was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. His digital chapbook, Life-wish Maintenance, appeared at Right Hand Pointing. Mercer’s recent work appears in Literary Orphans, The Magnolia Review, Praxis and Zero Flash.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Drive
West,
turn where
the Smith barn
used to be. A tree
you may recall marked the driveway.
It came down in a tornado years past, but look for
the trunk rotting in the tall grass.
You can’t miss the place
which was there
way back.
Straight
shot.


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TODD MERCER was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018. His digital chapbook, Life-wish Maintenance, appeared at Right Hand Pointing. Mercer’s recent work appears in Literary Orphans, The Magnolia Review, Praxis and Zero Flash.

Contributor: Todd Mercer

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Some days you succeed at the task, split the stone open.
Other times you stall out because you stayed up
over-late and didn’t favor choices that make
the body beautiful. Suspense surrounds attempts
of those who’ve halved it before but choked since,
like that iconic skier tumbling the length of the Seventies
on that sports show intro. The Agony of Defeat guy
could still kick ass in a bar fight, but the mercy rule
suggests we let him be by now. The sword is certain,
but the spirit needs caffeine. If one split the stone
in ‘86, ’95 and 2010, must one cleave it each try
to stay a slight hero? Survey says: Yes.
Fair is what would be if your mother ran the planet.
She has no pull here, zero. Certain mornings
you wake up foolproof and divide the stone.
So far no one can manage it every blessed day.


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TODD MERCER won the Grand Rapids Festival Flash Fiction Award. His digital chapbook, Life-wish Maintenance, appeared at Right Hand Pointing. Recent work appears in 100 Word Story, Literary Orphans and Praxis.