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"
Shave one’s head
a saffron robe
prancing pure terse
with the world’s
hug all living
within one’s beauty
Read more "Michael Berton – Tibetan-Buddhist Hangover"
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.
Wallace’s Story Wallace said: We were at this craft fair Quilts and pot holders Goats’ milk candles and god knows. My wife likes this stuff And I go along. I call it “Putting money in the marital account,” And besides, somebody has to pay. This little woman came hobbling up to us About 50 inches […]
Read more "ANDREW HUBBARD – WALLACE’S STORY"
Sunday evening is worse than Monday morning,
The fear of death, says Sir Francis, is worse than death.
A sickly feeling rises and churns in my stomach,
even now, after I’ve lived through such seven hundred
and seventy non-workingSundays. It’s the same every time.
It starts rising from Saturday. In the morning
a panic reminder rings, a tightening in intestines.
Saturday evening warns me that the next
will be the last before death comes again.
Read more "Rajnish Mishra – Sunday Evening"
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!