Rocky the Raccoon On a cold winter night the raccoon eats pecans under the tree. It keeps its distance or rather I keep mine. I can hear its sharp teeth grinding on the paper shell. Wild! It stops. So I pick one up off the driveway and toss it its way to show the world can be kind even […]
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AZURIST’S INDIGO HAND (By Joseph Cavera) Cracks fault my indigo hand Post “D” I must not land This bastard child, what is it worth? My dark offspring in two past six Is it immoral that a lad give birth? A grand graphic scratch I wish I could nix Arid sands form a cloud in my brain As I […]
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Strangers Waiting For 2 Different Trains We both spent hours waiting on the line for a ticket to Shakespeare in the Park. I saw her on the blades of grass, supine while I stood up behind her on a lark I’d talk to her. “What’s the play about,” she asked, before I knelt on down beside her to explain, ‘The […]
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DEAR SPIDER – By John Grey Ants are more efficient at what they do than people. Weeds can grow just about anywhere. Animals kill to survive not for pleasure. And they collect no gewgaws besides. A homeless man sits on the pavement, holding up a sign, with a cup before him that’s hungry for coins. Most people stride on […]
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YOU HAVE A PIER IN ME – By John Grey Pier juts far into the open sea. It makes its point, not here, where stone steps lead from sand to calm wooden planks but out at the very tip of itself, where water crashes against its pylons and its slim foundations shake and shudder. Like me, there’s a calm that […]
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Careless Consumption The tide slowly ebbs from Florida shores so tourists walk the beaches without getting wet, never wondering why there are no more seashells. The ocean looks the same to them, not realizing the muddy water was once clear blue, completely untainted. The fishes are departing scooped up in massive nets that do not recognize the need to feed […]
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LIFE, A HOBBY (By Joseph Cavera) Let it never be said that each of us would be better off without a hobby. A small side directive of which to begin, where new aspects of life await, waiting to be mapped and measured. For some, the charm lies carving small creations from bits of wood. For others, sailing on a […]
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Every once in awhile over the last 40 years Ralph wondered what might have happened to the guy who had moved in with the mother of his children and drank all the time. He remembered the kids saying when they were small the fellow got up one night to go to the bathroom and got lost in the hallway went back to […]
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Crossing the Red Line (triptychon III) 1. On the Map On the map: The red line of the lignite opencast mine, an absurdly long compound noun for an absurd, behind the times mega project. What can be found, here and now, this side and that side of the red line? I experience it by bike. 2. That […]
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CLAIM FOR THE MEEK (By John Biscello) I do not want to see the face of God. I want to see her mask, where and for whom it cracked, the causal history of lines and fissures; want to trace, with blind mute innocence, the light quartered and drawn in Braille, its grooves holding, without strain or regret, Mercy’s hidden […]
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