Poetry – Year VIII – Number 55 – November 2022

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...

The Garden of Eden There is a song in the wellspring of my being,a rainbow that shines forth from my eyes.Like a child’s tears, it is endless, and from mybreath wafts the scent of the...

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...

REGARDING THE END There is the brink.It is mostly off in the distance.It is sometimes very close.You will stroll up to it.Some of your friends will hungrily jog.There will be one or two who leap.You...

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...

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...