POEM FOR KATIE, QUEEN OF OHIO #37
I don’t know
you will lift
all of us.
POEM FOR KATIE, QUEEN OF OHIO #38
You are one
to me. Hinge
the sign so
that the rest
of the shadow
can see you
POEM FOR KATIE, QUEEN OF OHIO #39
Lullaby, so broken
& full of the pieces
that could not be
lost, I am desperate
to have you here
amidst the mixture
as it presses
against the mixture.
The heat is coming.
You are the heat.
You could end
these small endings.
Find Darren C. Demaree online.
Read more "Darren C. Demaree – 3 Poems"
Level Three Emergency
We’re snowed in
at a Motel 6
and I’ve still got it,
the gold chain we stole
from your mother
that rainy Easter.
Tell me to turn up the radio
and dance like we’ll die here,
frozen and hungry, naked.
There is no resisting fire.
I could last forever, a jewel
thief for you, searching
for enough amber
to fossilize our love.
Tell me to wear this gold
chain around my neck, a collar
or dog tag to show the new world
what you mean to me.
We’re snowed in;
Read more "NATE ELIAS – LEVEL THREE EMERGENCY"
I could last until the sun
thaws us from the past
and frees us from this room.
Love or Some Other Implement of Exfoliation
“Things have to keep breaking until they’re whole.” –Constance Plumley, “La Nuit”
The thing about the bombing of Dresden
was all the china. An entire industry
reduced to dust in the space
of a few hours.
When you showed
me your heart, Constance, I saw
a street, filled with rubble, blue-
flecked pieces scattered between,
and I asked you if you’d let me be
the jeweler with pots of glue
and molten gold. Days spent
with loupe attached to glasses,
a harvest of shards deposited
in a burlap sack,
then nights spent
at the jigsaw table, piece after piece
rotated, rearranged, until one demitasse
cup approached completion.
my arm and begged “don’t leave me”
again and again; I told you
our work had just begun. An entire
profession remains to be reassembled.
This is the work we do, and from it
we shall emerge, not new, not pristine,
but stronger, a semblance of what we
were before. Imperfect but together.
1The title is a line from Tim Staley’s “Duet”.
Read more "ROBERT BEVERIDGE – LOVE OR SOME OTHER IMPLEMENT OF EXFOLIATION"
Brutal Truths and Lying Light
You can peel off your scars
Read more "ROBERT BEVERIDGE – BRUTAL TRUTHS & LYING LIGHT"
like so many old and dirty
band-aids. Pain makes a great
affectation, don’t you think?
The writers want you to reveal
your third nipple in the season
finale. Give them an expensive thrill.
Make no mistake, this is a game
of ratings and dogs’ breath.
Take another swig of condensed
Windex, another bite
of urinal cake. Breath is freshest
when it’s blue. Nice to see you.
Ivanka, you love your nasty daddy,
Read more "DAVID SPICER – DADDY DEAREST"
you never dispute him or contradict
any of his gross tweets or lame edicts,
and you might even serve as his caddy.
But are you tempted to call him Fatty
when he eats too many Eggs Benedict,
not leaving the yellow-white plates unlicked,
or berate him for appearing too natty?
No, you say, I love my daddy dearest,
he’s my hero, my knight in dull armor,
and gives me what I want in the tower.
Besides, he’s the biggest, the fiercest
father of this cruel world, but can he purr
when he wants my love, before he glowers!
Hard to believe that all these people were fucked into the world,
Read more "Jeffrey Zable – WHAT’S BEST"
but here they are and there isn’t much that can be done about it.
They need to be fed, clothed, roofed, and mostly entertained
so that they don’t get mad and do something punitive like
putting arsenic in the water or polluting the air with swear words
so loud that the rest of us go deaf and no longer can listen
to old Stones, Beach Boys, and Beatle’s songs.
Yes it’s best to be civil with all these people and try to make
friends with a few of them in case you get locked out of your
house without your cell phone so that if you need to call your
spouse to come open the door, they will open theirs and say,
“Of course, use mine!” and maybe give you a cup of tea
or a glass of juice while you wait.
It’s best to think of oneself as a world citizen and trust
everyone until there is cause to believe that someone
is trying to manipulate you into giving them your money
or using you as an listening board for all their problems. . .
I like that word.
What is it?
Is it that blonde girl behind Denny’s?
Maybe your uncle who slept with them all?
Maybe the actual trash can in your room?
The one overflowing with paper?
Maybe it’s that one plate of nachos no one finished
Or it could obviously be that one pan of food,
The one with all that… dull green mold
Why the hell is there a lot of trash?
Why do people call it hideous?
Why is it called trash? Trash.
Is your life trash?
I hope not, that’ll just be sad.
Is your friend’s life trash?
It better be compared to yours.
Well, I think trash is beautiful.
Trash is filled with a wonder of color.
Don’t you see that weird mystery liquid?
The thin pieces of hair draping over the sides.
The red spots from the ketchup.
The orange peels from, well, oranges.
The yellow peels from bananas.
The green everything- mold, lettuce and whatnot.
The multiple wrappers from various brands.
That one bare steak t-bone.
Wait, now that I think about
Read more "EMILY RIVERA – TRASH"
Trash is disgusting.