Soul Fountain

The Cross Near the Edge   A too small cross in a big wayside shrine amidst the fields on the fertile loess soil, soon to be devoured by the bucket wheel excavator, a monstrous word for an even more monstrous ...

I bring a milkshake every other week to an old man in a nursing home, a refugee from Germany who paid me   50 cents to cut his grass when I was  a kid in Chicago after WWII.   I couldn’t ...

Bucket List before I expire, i’d defy the laws of gravity, by breastroking through the atmosphere, upwards. i’ll then settle on the fluffiest of the floating beds in the sky; sipping copiously from my bottle of malta in high spirit ...

FRANKFURT PIG (By Joseph Cavera) There once was a pig from Frankfurt, Who found he had grime on his shirt, He believed neither eye As he sullied a silk tie After spending a day, or two, in the dirt Now ...

IN THE BRUSH (By Joseph Cavera) In to out is unearthed and free description, encryption form friction as fiction is subdivided into purest Soliloquy Silver screens form the veil that shrouds as memories and processes slowly deride senses that tried ...

SMALL BEFORE THE SEA We have only pictures, A journal and rubble From what was a fixture To keep ships from trouble. A lighthouse, built sturdy, On Unimak island Around 1940, With Coast Guard as client. Five Guardsmen were manning ...

Earthquake What happened? There was a fault. What’s a fault? It’s when one piece of the earth juts above another. Why does that happen? Because the explosion down below Goes on forever. But was that fault anybody’s? It was the ...

KING             B.B. King, Bushnell Auditorium, Hartford, CT     B.B. King wasn’t through one song when I became possessed and was torn from my seat, Ernie imploring me, No!  No!  John!  John! But he was too late.  I was ...

THE SAVIOR You ask me, “If the house were burning, what would you save?” Would it be my photo albums? Odd how printing pictures has all but stopped. I don’t own jewelry, though I imagine gold melting to nuggets in ...

LEONID (By Joseph Cavera) the soul lays here in this grim place demons rear I can't stand the pace this Mad mien dampens the soul perhaps the cause of this pandemic hole and although juts through the tailpipe of every ...