POMEGRANATE BY ELAINA WHITESELL
she waits to be pried open
and display her water socket
seedlings stuck in stiff lining
Month: July 2017
BLACK HOLES BY BY JACK LORTS
I believe in Black Holes,
In the bending of spacetime,
The impossibility of escape
From the event horizon.
OF SOCKS AND SHIRTS AND NONSENSE SONGS BY JONATHAN BRACKER
Boys in Houston junior high schools in the spring of 1945
Wore brightly colored socks as a fad, thick woolly socks
In popsicle colors: lemon yellow, lime green, orange
MOWING THE LAWN CAROL GLOOR
Gradually the rectangle shrinks
as you go round and round,
a seamstress cutting a cloth to size
until it is all short, flat,
ready to be ironed.
THE SUN RISES AND SETS TO ITS OWN TIME BY BARBARA BROOKS
We have stopped saving daylight.
The dark comes earlier,
more time to descend into my icy hole.
DEBRIS FLOW BY JENNIFER LAGIER
Big Sur’s extreme topography,
denuded by summer wildfire,
melts, slides downhill to ocean
after winter monsoon.
DOWN THE DRAIN BY CAROL GLOOR
Inky the octopus noticed
when his keeper left
the tank lid ajar.
He swam over, lifted it,
slid down to the floor
DON’T TURN AROUND BY SAMUEL FRANDINO (excerpt)
Fifteen years earlier she was a waitress in a college town. The previous year she had been a student in a college town who was coming to the realization that she liked the town and hated going to college. The waitress job was a temporary answer.
Read MoreSOLITARY CONFINEMENT BY JENNIFER LAGIER
A dove, trapped within abandoned dog run,
panics as it hears my approach.
CHERRY TOMATOES BY CAROL GLOOR
This one summer they bloom
from pots, vines, over fences,
hang in fat secret bunches, thick
as grapes with little green jester hats
IN THE WOODS BY CYNTHIA MCVAY
I have been scanning the saturated earth, training my eyes on the rotting leaf detritus, the bases of maples and ash and elm, trying not to get distracted.
Read MoreDRIZZLE BY JENNIFER LAGIER
Triple digit Central Valley heat
pulls a foggy blanket over bleak shoreline,
fills silver skies with gloomy faux clouds.
