Poetry - Year VI - Number 46 - March 2021

SOLACE Two appear out of the early morning fogcoming up from the beach under the pier,a night spent curled against the cold.Gone down into the forest of wharf-pylons,they laid on the sand with their blanket,guessed...

Simultaneous PerceptionPixels in 24 bitI stand by the ocean shore,and I went screaming in black and whitewhile glitches danced on my skin.JPEG animations flooding out my kneesthe fluttering of those chatsthose 1997 Internet aestheticslinger...

MENACING HEAVEN The sky has swallowed time’s poison. The sky is pressing on empty, mis-colored streets In this city, one—just one—baby cries ...

while we’re away lights on the bayflicker twice, then recedeto the crawl space of Summerwinds resonatingthe deep chilled wisconsin And winter will whipwhile we’re away yet waves rarely sleepopting instead to replenishthe sea and her sandswith the...

“time”The hands of the clock move too quicklyAs everything continues to change.Changing from the ideas of simpler timesAnd the constant dream to grow upGrow oldAnd do all that one couldn’t before.As my hair grows...

Science Class Mud deluging between mytoes, up my legs, splatteringinto my hair, liftednot an inch above murky water, tangled with cordgrass,reaching alongside my invasivelimbs, all of me excavatingthis Dauphin Island playground for annelid worms, marshperiwinkles, or even...

Sonnet about the fallen moon and morning star Heavenly sailorling spy out the wan light-sheen of star. Baffling unearthly time: weird having just thieved by elves. One of pale mornings longs for some meek fulfillment of night. Moony...

That Leap Munching away in the sun,what could be more pleasant?Fellow Roos scattered as far as the eye can see -My lovely Mary there, mother of 2 and one in the pouch,seems quietly content… SHOUT !...

Aretha in her Golden Casket Hawken The angled photograph revealsthe crown of her head, face obscured, ruffled red bodice, smooth red silk skirt,shapely café-au-lait calves and ankles tapered into five-inch (at least) stiletto heels.red, of course, and...

STINGERThe autumn encroaches my delineationRadiantMightyRenaissance-styledIn its zibellino accessoryMuddles my reposePigments my memoryJams snouts and tailsAt the bottom of dusty brush washersBrutality demyelinates my axonsI am groping for the pointI’d lost myselfIn the smother of...