Poetry - Year VI - Number 46 - March 2021

Waking Up The sun peeks over the mountain’s ridgeas it does every morningunless there are clouds to hide behind.The bright orange, yellow familiar glowfills the house through drawn curtains. Our winding road is glistening, fresh with...

PegasusWhen spring comes and the winged wind brings itthe seeds of life and the boldness of the harbinger of creationthe wonderful sublimation of matrices that healin a cosmic dance provided in the attraction of...

Sext Halfway to midnight& still the need for words to break the dayin two, regardless of how tired the tongueis from digging pearls of praiseout of silent shells. This is whenthe Captain turns the rudder intoflesh, at peace with how thebow...

The Undead With a tip of the hat to Sam Kinison. I think about Frankenstein, the mummy, zombies, ghosts,vampires, Nosferatu, poltergeists and revenants. All of them died, but somehow became undead. They haunt our dreamsand waking hours...

W w e h e ro dw e o c m ef r o m, w h e r e d ot h e y grow,the vines of reason, hieroglyphics,the artifacts of tongues?when does waxof...

Spirals of SoundIIf One of us must dieI hope it is I.When I thought my son with leukemia was dead, I screamed at God,“Take me instead!”The wish still stands inside my head.The signs and...

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...