I pick up the blue-striped curlicue jacket Of a lost mollusk. My heels sink In the sand, soggy from the runaway Foam that slaps and slides forward again. I pocket the shell, a lone white gull feather, Reject trails of raggedy black brittle Crab pincers, a grit-crusted raspberry Dannon container, a child’s chewed-up rubber thong. […]
Poetry 63
Richard Tayson: Vigil
Your face our face now attached to sticks held high as a mayor’s face a president’s. (You are not dead–we walk through a sea of your faces) Finally the pushing finally cop cars. Your face in front of me goes down and is torn to shreds the way animals tear living flesh and eat, eat. […]
Richard Tayson: Afterwards Antigone Goes To The Water
When he was dead I went to the river singing. O wind over the transparent surface, how can I act with my hands broken? Sand I kneel in, glimmering. I lose my body each day for an asteroid. The planets flicker; they are not in a pretty row. Nothing to say of hair turned straw, […]
Tim Suermondt: Pancho Villa Returns His Suit to Me
“It is too big,” he says in his tough Mexican accent. I tell him he’s made a mistake I can’t help him and I hope he won’t be offended as I ask him why he, of all people, would want to wear a suit. “For my funeral,” he says proudly. “Pancho,” I say, putting a […]
Tim Suermondt: Saint Augustine
There’s nothing in me that’s Spanish, alas. I remember the same feeling when 10yr. old Tim was crushed to learn he didn’t carry the bloodline of the great Cochise. So much for civilization. But, to steal from Robert Graves, I say, Goodbye to all that and I’m happy to do my citizen’s duty: The Flagler […]
Carley Moore: The Phenomenon of Ecstasy
after Salvador Dali If you lay the chair on its back it does not look like a woman. If you push the chair back and remember me sitting in it, it will remind you of a woman who was shaped by a chair. When you sit on the chair you make the woman into the […]