by Darcie Raridon Need for a fatherfelt like a pox.So, I buried minein a box-top-box.It’s stuffedfull of lessons,he never taught,wrapped in clotheshe never bought,and I scribbledhis obituaryon the first, andonly postcardI ever got.
Poetry Posts
The Stream, The Soul and The Immersion
by Eric Obezo The cool rushing water splashes and swirls, playfully dancing around my skin. All of the dirt I carry flushes away, dribbling downstream, revitalizing my body. This pure elixir showers my matted hair, releasing the clumps of grime…
My Decoration (The Janitor’s Monologue)
by Ron Dowell (This story contains drugs/addiction.) Agent Orange tainted weed fucked me up in Nam.Back in the world, drugs retarded me. Ihallucinated and failed a four-way stop sign.My road dog crashed the windshield. I’d go back and changeif I could. Please help me, Jesus. Nobody had told me shit. Lies…
Smart’s Brook in Winter
by Russell Rowland Dressed in layers much like us, exceptwith lengthier robes of ice and snow,the stream is concealed, though there.Cold day, yet it means to keep moving. It has swept away an autumn of leaves,cleared out jammed tree trunks, evenstripped a moose carcass—year’s workwell done, by nature’s John the…
Psalm of Mere Being
by Ray Corvi The funeral parlor opened its front doorOut flew a dandelion’s wind-borne seeds Mourn the way the trees have thrownLimbs branching skyward into leaves
People Get Ready
by Ron Dowell after “(Don’t Worry) If There’s a Hell Below, We’re All Going to Go.” Curtis Mayfield Mayfield lit the torch in black dark, said Keep on Pushing when kept apart from parks, restaurants, movies. My face turned black-hot when called a nigger. So, I love music that interrogates ears, tastes like conflict, has disorder’s stench, a…
Ceremony of Trees
by Amy Brian Having faith in my socksI leave my shoes scattered somewherein the home’s warm core—underthe tangled feet of the dining room chair, maybe? And step out into the breath of a January eveningto gather in the split timbercontentedly piled by foreseeing stiff and chilled fingersto adorn our front…
He Lost Ten Pounds
by Amy Covel He lost ten poundsand has slowly foundwhere he left them. He left one in his bedduring those sleepless nights,wondering what was wrongand what was right. One he found in the bathroom,carved into the floorfrom all the morningshis feet stood thereas he battled upset stomach. Two more he…
Moving Waters
by Eleanore Lee Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine It flows, pours pastLike our loves?The waves are surging up Baker Beach shore(Fukushima-flavored waves, my love?)Yes, crouch on the wet sand and breathe in that cold roar! Did you remember yourBathing suit? Sandals? Me?Faut-il qu’il m’en souvienne…?Everything? Must I? Hand…
It Begins with a Lapsus
by Ray Corvi It begins with a lapsus I climb out of the windowinto the boughs of trees become a bird& fly away and find myselfgrafted to the day * the window: open it–– I shall leap and soar I can whistle any tune the songs they o-pen as windows or…