Home Poetry - Year V - Number 29 - October 2019

Poetry - Year V - Number 29 - October 2019

    FOCUS by Antonio Rios

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    FOCUS by Antonio Rios  NOVEMBER 17, 2010 Clouds slowly rolled across the sky overhead.A heavyset man sold hotdogs at the street corner.Three young children played on a swing set.The leaves fell from the trees steadily,a soft snip when they...

    EMPRESS by Chani Zwibel

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    EMPRESS by Chani Zwibel  EMPRESSPlease send good newsand graceful configurations of repose.I want to recline on this silver maple settee and read this gilt-edged tome in peace.I keep dreaming of stone circles. I can’t keep count of all...

    MORNING SONG by John Leonard

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    MORNING SONG by John Leonard  No Cream, No Sugar Being awake feels like having eternal patience.Nights slowly dripping into my orange coffee cup. I don’t remember who gave it to me,or where I got it from. Like most...

    ONE SINGLE ROSE by Edward Bonner

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    ONE SINGLE ROSEby Edward Bonner  ONE SINGLE ROSEIf I could offer one single rose’with ruby petals,blades of crimson,showered in dreams,from my garden where seasons are unknown.Would you understand?If a stream runs through graciously’in short,under breath,soft...

    THE TROP by David Somerset

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    THE TROP by David Somerset   The Trop          The game drones on.The Trop is a “pinball game”  baseball field, named after orange juice.A hit ball striking one catwalk is a double.If it hits another, then its a...

    SCAVENGERS by Hank Kalet

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    SCAVENGERS by Hank Kalet Father Becomes the Son He says he should justhave a heart attack. Done. And whenI reprimand, I feel the embersof past fires burningin my gut. At eighty,he’s earned his self-obsession, but pityis not...

    ROUGH RIDE by George Gad Economou

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    ROUGH RIDE by George Gad Economou  Rough Ride time to spend a few hours to watch Wrestlekingdom,and I wish you were here, to crack a Wild Turkey open, crank some shit up. like events from too many years...

    WILLOW AND BARK by Sally Sandler

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    WILLOW AND BARK by Sally Sandler  Somedays I Am That Cypress                                                                                 The past has all blown east.The Monterey cypress felt it leavein the teeth of a Pacific sea squall.Ever since, the cypress has leaned easttoward the...

    SUNDAY AFTERNOON by Stuart Rawlinson

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    SUNDAY AFTERNOON by Stuart Rawlinson  Commutations The morning commute begins on the hourAs nighttime and daylight adjoin in friction.Buses interrupt as I squint for my number;Balanced and hovering on the kerb’s edgeIn front of staring commuters like...

    REMEMBERING CAMUS by Reed Venrick

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    REMEMBERING CAMUS by Reed Venrick  Circles of the Sea The Eye was the first circle(Emerson) Those last days of summer, buildinga sandman for the last time, beforeSeptember's school, soon to begin—when the child sees something, she standing, leaping up...