Poetry – Year VIII – Number 55 – November 2022

tenth millennium i’m sure i was the same                                  as the stone; round and ungolfed; fractured from something much larger                   that stumbled down the mountain. there is nothing that                              laughs any                                          harder than a murder of crows. i can sit, without a fossil etched           any- where;...

kaleidoscoping a sun-dressed mare Lest my heart becomes a seagull, soars away—the world is a cold country—lest my heart effervesces in pyrogenic fever, leaving my body unlike a lamb, but a naïve bull running from...

There’s a fly in my champagne coupethe door is locked from the wrong side Freshly squeezed stars and glitter all over the floorfreshly squeezed heart vessels and vermillion all over the groundI once read that...

Forever August We hate to see August drain awayLike the grains of goldFleeing from a dying miner’s handFrom an old movie.We want to remember theLush, emerald-green of the vegetationWhich surrounds us.Like a sweet-smelling cocoon.My nose...

Writing on a Tree Thick plainness as sodaIce like migraineSlowing down thoughtsAs a reliefI findFingers covered in sandalwood paste.Half of it is wiped away with water, tingling,Listening to kajriI think of scrubbing fingers harshness in...

In the bewitched aviary. The sonnet according to Mr. Shakespeare Helots muse about moony Golden Fleece of the condor. Drudges think of the dreamy eternal dew of the hen. Philosophers ponder on winged fantasy of the crow. Kings ruminate...

Prodigal Daughter The girl asked nothing from me,just left, hitching I suppose,my car still in the garage,my wallet untouched.She looks just like her mother,relatives say when they learn. When I search her room, I find herchildhood...

Topography of the Historical Map Others napped as the Rocky Mountain Sunday snowdrifted thick while we slow touched, increasinglynaked in the living room, gluing ourselves tight,until together in the spring storm our eyesgrew large living...

I Will Miss the Train My shift starts earlyOn the ward, so I seeAnd hear what mostOf my countrymenOnly learn about second-hand.For instance, This morning the sunStretched its armsRather timidly. I’ve never seen itBe so shy....

Summer, Speedway, Indiana 1975 I guess because his dad was a dentist,Jeff Beverly had a 500 ml syringe—minus the needle. Looking back, I understandwhy all the grown-upssaid I was disturbed for many reasons, but mainly because of that...