Vodka Omelet Make it clear in my mind, Jesus, am I whacked-out on Double Cross Vodka or have I flipped out calling myself Limburger omelet chef? I hate question marks and angels with crazed wings. You know the type, John the Baptist toking weed, stoned out of his mind, storyteller, foul smells from poor hygiene, eating habits open mouth, swallowing grasshoppers, so silky, smooth as sweet honey. Add 3 eggs in a skillet, Parmesan/Romano blend, 2 cheeses add-on, shiitake mushrooms, turmeric, chopped kale, hint hot chili peppers, cheers. Scramble me, I’m cracked. I rock faith in jungle music, dance nude. Everything is a potential poem to me. My omelette, my life, my booze, master cook, vodka omelet 2:38 a.m.Read more "MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON – VODKA OMELET"
On this mountain,
we built likenesses of ourselves
as human beings.
We sent them down to the valley to mingle
with the townspeople.
We went to Dairy Queen, ordered
a Blizzard, bought Megadeth
at the music store, and visited Army gun shows
that exhibited tanks and other
to be one of them, for this and only this
made them happy.
We walked into banks
instead of robbing them.
We took out accounts in fake American names
and sipped free cucumber water.
We went to the movies
carrying tubs of popcorn and 22 liters
of Coke, and pretended we were beautiful
for two hours.
As we rode back up the mountain,
the radio played a country song
about football, pick-up trucks and rebel flags.
We were made to understand these things
An SUV drove across from us, with
an American family. In the front,
a husband and wife took a look
at us. I tried to read the husband’s lips.
I’m pretty sure he was saying, “Stay
away from our borders.”
In the back, a little freckle-faced boy
with a coonskin cap fired a pellet gun
at his kid sister—imagined killing her.
The Washington Monument
shoots up at night like a giant rocket ship to the moon.
The Lincoln Memorial glows majestically.
Dead Presidents stare out through stone eyes,
their heroic expressions rendered masterfully.
Arlington Cemetery overflows
with soldiers who died in their honor.
Rats in subway grates
raid garbage bins for half-eaten Chipotle burritos.
Tourists walk past homeless men
whose hands are swollen
like catcher’s mitts.
A new Whole Foods opens around the corner.
Liquor stores sell lottery tickets
and menthol cigarettes.
At Five Guys, a family huddles
over burgers and Cajun fries, peanut shells on the floor
swept away by Central American teenagers.
Their pimply-faced son
watches the teens work while he chews.Read more "MILES LISS – 2 POEMS"
KEEPING MY APPOINTMENT WITH MY ATTORNEY ON A GORGEOUS DAY
School is in session,
Time for another life lesson on the living of life:
Small trees bend from the pressures of an invisible partner,
The wind takes the lead during an unrehearsed tango—
A day of bouquet beauty.
Two young men skate board warriors with tattoo armor
Scroll down the steep asphalt city hill.
I look to the pastel blue sky.
Am I looking at it or looking through it?
Its beauty is my bookmark.
I chose my attorney by the appearance of his desk,
The picture story relief, an atlas of events carved into wood,
Tree rings of life beneath layers of dark stained beginnings.
When will this fiasco end? I ask
And the answer he knew I wanted to hear,
Soon, with hopefully attached loosely.
In the Thick
In the thick
of our holy quarrel,
she leans in
the most important thing,
but is silent,
and I want to leave her
across the table
on her device,
but I knock over our old vase
spilling the violets,
and she looks at me
as if before they fell,
~Read more "PETER SCHIRESON – IN THE THICK"
Kiss It All Away
I crumble under the weight of your wings
as you leap from the balcony and find that you’re only human
and the two of us fall.
There are gods burning in the fire place
painfully smiling through bruised lips
I’ve got runs in my hose from their fingernails; they need us, too.
What a disappointment it was to discover
that you still have one foot stuck in the real world
and it’s the foot that counts.Read more "HOLLY DAY – KISS IT ALL AWAY"
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 […]Read more "TIM STALEY – 13 HAIKU"
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"