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Archive for April, 2008

Presenting: Misti Rainwater-Lites

Bitch Dragon

the bitch dragon is breathin’ fire
down my neck
the scales are shinin’
the claws are scratchin’
the tail is lashin’
this is how it goes
as I drive down the freeways
of Texas
with gurglin’ stomach
& the stain of 35 years of shame
all over my steerin’ wheel clutchin’
snow white hands (more…)

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#34

Stanley H. Barkan
MAY

So
the flowers
have come,
at last.
Millefiore—
all the colors
of the mythic rainbow.
The little girls wear them
in their hair,
prepare
for the dance
around the pole
we dreamt about
as children.
Butterflies are still
in chrysalis,
moths in pupa.
When hint of summer sun
will warm their cool cocoons,
they’ll spread their wings
and flutter out
on petals firm to the seed
on edge of branch,
open to the greater
and lesser lamps
spotlighting
their all too brief
encounter with the air.

(more…)

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#33

Joseph Goosey
BIT BY THE ANT

I have decided to begin
drinking,
tambien.
I view the geese
mobbing
other
geese.
And here
are the
girls
in
pink.

(more…)

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#32

Lyn Lifshin
NUREYEV

he has a marvellous
engine inside him,
like a Rolls Royce.
He’s a mixture of
a tartar, a faun and
a kind of lost urchin.
In his final years
he insisted on literally,
excruciatingly, dying
before our eyes,
giving performances
so ragged and inept
audiences whistled ,
demanded refunds.
He was ill, but the
stage was his only
real home. So he
stayed there

(more…)

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#31

Ananda Selah Osel
The Last Poem of the Night

my real name is
not the name
you know me by
I changed it
to hide from
you and them
and him
and me (more…)

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#30

Alan Britt
CRICKETS

Crickets, the only stars
on this overcast full moon.

The crickets are thick
distinct choruses
discerned
by leaning this way or that.

Their trilling
resembles frenzied
blueyellow beaks from the Peruvian rainforest.

The sky kneels on surrounding
green maples,
spreading her mother-of-pearl nightgown
over white lawn chairs
and the bare shoulders of a split-rail fence.

The crickets are industrious,
oblivious to personifications in their midst.

It seems they’re hopelessly preoccupied
chewing tiny holes in the nightgown
worn by this aging humid July evening.

(more…)

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#29

Tony Nesca
MUTED LOVE SYMPHONY IN THE BIG EASY DRIZZLE

empty pen on table
concrete walls in my body
bearded man blows the saxophone
politician says alright slickster
head feeling down-low
world news grim
purple moonshine out the window
I watch the timewheel rotation moving easy
henry miller he got some wild ass cockroach-sexy
he smilin’ like satchmo in the big easy drizzle
I smilin’ like ella she giving me sweet ass
one I love misbehavin’ cuz it’s me and my radio
world singing the muted-love-symphony
it’s rain on your sunshine
it’s no idea in the urban indifference
it’s love in dark corners
it’s angry-jack in the wildman blues song
it’s me and you holding hands in the forever-happy
unforgiving celebration…

(more…)

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