For W.C.W.by Trish Pantano |
|
Along the edge of the road on a somber New Years Eve tiki torches light up the crystalline snow with molten flame, burning rapid and pointing toward the wind, welcoming the toasted tribe home. |
|
Afternoonsby Elizabeth Dickhut |
|
I found you sitting on the porch, a glass of wine in your right hand. Your fingers formed a fist around the stem of the glass before you lifted it in my direction, saying without words, You’re late. I could tell from your hands you had been digging, pulling away the unwanted. The bleeding hearts looked clean and uncluttered; their ruddy blossoms swept the railing of the porch, scoffing, it seemed, at the dandelions that lay next to them, lifeless. For a moment, I felt sorry I had not been there to pull them gently from the earth, to pull us together into the afternoon. Watching the sun dip behind the rim of your glass, I knew there would be lilacs waiting in my room, spilling over the edge of a vase, permeating the room with their heavy scent. |
|
Poetby Chuck Joy |
|
blue, neon blue the word, POET floating in the darkness black wall in back painted black
attentive audience filled, every row faces, dark and pale directed toward the stage all of them thinking many of other things
the blue word POET, gathers itself becomes a blue arrow and shoots off, stage left leaving a fellow already standing there smiling
black hair, white jeans yellow shirt, green vest
he snaps his fingers for a microphone and stand asks, are we ready for poetry
delivers one line and then another line, pausing oddly, here we go |
|
Sing Me the Bluesby Wendy Parent |
|
Sing it baby, sing them Blues! I hear ya, I feel ya I’m pickin’ up what yer puttin’ down. Bounce and bop super fly on the rebound with notes of pure soul. Blues from deep walkin’ struts turn it up high slip in the front door rockin’ the house down low, Momma’s kickin’ it up Blues ringing on the phone harmonica cryin’ in the drink, gotcha right up along the Mississippi crossing the wires to my hometown blues caught up in the wail hollerin’ for the funk, rock me with the soulful cry So baby, sing me the Blues. |