TOM MONTAG – PEAR

PEAR

The trick is

to be clear

so often,

 

then to show —

nothing in

this hand, and

 

nothing in

this one — a

confounding

 

innocence

just before

you disap-

Advertisements
Read more "TOM MONTAG – PEAR"

POETRY: WILLIAM DORESKI – THUNDERSTORM PAVILION

Thunderstorm Pavilion

 

From the thunderstorm pavilion

we watch rain brew over China

then cruise across the Pacific

and slop ashore at Carmel.

Crossing the continent in moments,

it arrives in time to endorse

explorations we’ve kept secret

from our many pear-shaped friends.

 

The thunder itself is a rumor

we’ve paid our agents to spread.

Writhing octoploid in the wash,

we absorb a million volts

to glow in places no one glows

unless assuming the leadership

of islands of fabulous wealth.

 

With your pale expensive thighs

you scissor off lengths of sky

to drape over the coffins

of those whose clothing wrinkled

in downpours we had to sponsor

for the sake of unborn children

whose inheritance is in doubt.

 

The glass of the pavilion fogs

to conceal our best maneuvers

as clouds the color of angels

enter and kneel to worship

not us but the distance between.

 

Read more "POETRY: WILLIAM DORESKI – THUNDERSTORM PAVILION"

POETRY: NATALIE CRICK – WEDDING CAKE

Wedding Cake

 

We eat the top of your wedding cake,

Stale sugar pieces cracking our teeth,

 

Promising each mouthful

To be the last,

 

Buttercream drooling from

Sticky fingers,

 

Pregnant with cream,

Pink pearls to be kissed.

 

Plump lips wait,

Shivering from loneliness.

 

We listen to the screaming downstairs

 

The plastic bride and groom

Sucked clean of sweetness.

Read more "POETRY: NATALIE CRICK – WEDDING CAKE"

POETRY: NELS HANSON – GUESTS

Guests

A lost dog and at his side

a lost friend are running day

and night across blue rivers’

bridges, down red roads not

clay but pavement, from state

to state each a map’s different

color. No time for rest or sleep,

to eat, only random wild root

or berry, quick short drink from

a cold spring. Each hour I hear

them growing closer, closer,

expect at any second one kind

paw scratch at my screen door,

the whisper of patient knocking,

muted, shy, polite but unafraid

no one will answer after their

long journey as I rise to greet

my two guests, the strangers

I’ve waited all my life to meet.

Read more "POETRY: NELS HANSON – GUESTS"