TIM STALEY – 13 HAIKU

13 HAIKU   All the naked women turned out to be Barbies on the kitchen floor   ~   The spider grins when something crashes its web and breaks its connections   ~   A crystal airway blocked by a hot dog collapsed the operation   ~   Alone time in December is somber   […]

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Cathryn Shea – Epiphanies

Epiphanies

I wanted a magical telephone
to dial me up and announce,
“This is college calling. We’ve
decided your major.”

Then I would fall asleep
and in the morning I’d know
with certainty what career
I’d be hired for.

A bird would descend from
heaven and chirp in my ear
to confirm my choice of mate.
“Yes, this man is to be
a good husband.”

Somehow I’d know to have
a child at age 25. Ring ring.
The doorbell sounding. It’s
a package!

Someone said to always ask
yourself a question about
any problem at bedtime and
sleep on it. The best answer
would always reveal itself
in the morning.

I wanted epiphanies
when hard decisions arose:
Move? Buy the house? Rent?
Quit this job? Have another
child? Leave my husband?
Stay with my husband?

I had an epiphany today.
I must be calm
and not need an answer.

~

Find Cathy online.

 

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LeAnne Gomez – Master Copy

Master Copy

I had split myself in two
and chose to leave some
gray areas in the new copy
like a photocopy, not as clear
pleasing, or useful as the original
but still able to function
for all intents and purposes
in tasks that require no heart or moxie
sure, she can smile
but she won’t feel happy
a xerox me is a little fuzzy
around the edges
of emotion and ambition
those bullet points that are subheadings
of the non-physical realms
crispness is absolutely necessary
to feel true pain
and true joy
and wonder
and gratitude
and in all matters of the heart
eventually, xerox me
would have demanded another copy
“the original has been lost”
she would proclaim
with unshakeable confidence
“and I am all that is left-
make copies from me,
and I will be
the master”
But there would be no light in her eyes
and the child would have disappeared
searching for the next lifetime
to inhabit
when the child is not nurtured
she has a tendency to wander
for curiosity of the world and beyond
and in search of divine potential.
Her sources are limited
without a master copy.
So the long and short of it is
that I have decided to shred xerox me
for fear that she would take over my life
and sell me to a mundane existence
that would eventually leave all of my most
beautiful flowers
without water
and my white wolf
without food.
xerox me has no concern
for much other than herself
and she foolishly tries to convince others
she is the original
but the originals among her
can tell that she is not.
i am relived to know that cheating
in this life-test did not progress
and hinder my progress
I really am here to learn
and damn it
I dont care about the grade
if the teacher cannot tell
who the real me is…

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Merridawn Duckler – In a Thrift Shop in Denver

In a Thrift Shop in Denver

An old guy walked by, farting in a thrift shop in Denver.

I missed my father, so I started to follow him.

What people give away! Srsly. Bobble-less heads, rejected ornaments,

a blanket with a hole chewed in it.

 

Meanwhile that guy pppffst out what the Greeks thought

was how gods spoke to us with each step.

All morning I’d been stuck in a group reading the bible.

One woman wore a laminated thing around her neck that said

 

Please Speak Clearly! I kid you not.

I wanted one that said Warning: I’m An Asshole!

for that one autodidact, grinding his rancid opinions in

a Tupperware. The baby Rabbi whispered: God responds to our tears.

 

A young, anguished fellow replied: My father told me not to cry

at bullies, it eggs them on, his voice choked. But then Dad said: OK, cry.

Outside clouds over the Rockies, gray, pink and radiant, gather sky corners like the hem

of a robe, over the unknowable cleft on that farting guy in the Arc Thrift.

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JOHN GREY – WALLFLOWER

WALLFLOWER

He feels bad for denying his body

to the ones that do not want it.

His hands stay in his pockets.

His lips open only to speak.

Every part of him feels the sacrifice.

Every woman in the club

doesn’t notice that he’s there.

He keeps his eye on the men

who do surrender to their longing.

The other sex assign themselves

to each and every one

of these unabashed lotharios.

He despises how the way they abase themselves.

No way he’d demean himself

by asking another to dance.

His soul is pure.

His conscience, a fountain of clarity.

If any sin tonight,

it won’t be on his account.

When the place closes,

he goes home alone again.

“Did you have a good time?”

asks his mother.

He had an unblemished time.

He feels bad for thinking that’s good.

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Erren Geraud Kelly – BROKE OFF LIKE TRUMP

Broke Off Like Trump

an old hippie sits

on the street in

handcuffs

they stopped him

because of a joint

 

they  used probable cause

to search his truck

and found a .45

they took  him in

though he had a gun permit

the hippie yelled for hours

about a trumped-up charge

 

another football player

takes a knee in the shadow

of the american flag

when questioned by the

media for his actions

he explained ” i’m just a pawn

in the white man’s game,” though he

bragged

in the past about being ” broke

off like trump ”

 

in brooklyn, i once worked on a

moving job on christmas eve

we had to pack up a mom

and 4 kids, cos they fell

four months behind

i told my co-worker

it was the foulest thing

a person could do

but her neighbor bailed her out

the woman told her, she’d

love to point her .38

at the face of old mister trump

 

the headlines read like orwellian declarations

like muhammad ali knocking out

sonny liston

” The Donald,” grabs life  by

the  pussy

he stands with his trophy wife yelling

” i shook up the world…”

this is the penitence we’ll  pay

for not appreciating Obama

 

i wonder could i spend a

few years, not saying the word

” Trump?”

 

an interracial couple

boards a greyhound bus

for montreal

they dont know when they’ll

be coming back

but they know love trumps

hate

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