Crazy is that
Feeling
Everything is fine
And you explode
A match not
Lighting a candle
Then detonating
In water
You smirking
Like that’s normal
Kelly McNeal lives and works in New Jersey. She has a Ph.D. from Fordham University. Her current or forthcoming publications appear in Rat’s Ass Review, Front Porch Review, Slink Chunk Press, Crack the Spine Magazine and Yellow Chair Review.
It seemed the opposite of Orient:
“North, South, Orient, Levant.”
Huge dictionaries can surprise,
and the word shot off light splinters
like our sparklers on your deck
at Fourth of July midnight,
the air heavy with moisture
from the lake as we watched
the lighted motorboats slip homeward
as smoothly as water striders.
There is a touch of levitation
in the definitions, also,
breaking camp, pulling up stakes,
or the spoiler who slips away
while his gambling debts stay behind.
A fine grade of rock so named, too.
But mostly it is an eastern shore
or eastern weather slipping
a moist gray shawl over everything
from the Adriatic to Gibraltar
to the Canary Islands while
I was expecting the opposite.
Stacked together, my two dictionaries
replicate each other in most things,
but like identical twins each
has unique features not to be lost.
I have never desecrated a dictionary
before, except with overuse,
and neither looks its younger best.
But now I’ve torn this paper chunk
out of the elder just to carry all
the contrasts found to a brighter light.
Orient, Levant. The lever of this word
has pried up many stones this morning,
and perhaps I’ll Scotch tape this fragment
back into place on its etymological map.
Tearing Through the Dictionary — 2
I did it, so now it appears to be
the repair of an accident.
On its reverse there is a bit of overlap
at lewd and lettuce and
letters of credence.
The latter is probably something
you should never quite trust.
Words and appearances
are really quite slippery.
Carol Hamilton is a former poet laureate of Oklahoma who has published children’s novels, legends and poetry. She has recent and upcoming publications in a number of literary magazines.
of bloodshed
marks my black heart
And the avenger of blood
invades my bloodstream
For I considered
the poor beneath me
And now their blood
cries out from the ground
beneath my feet
Every man’s hand
has a hand in this
who has a free hand
to toss his hat in the ring
and cast the first stone.
Patrick Theron Erickson is a retired parish pastor. He says Secretariat is his mentor, though he has never been an achiever and has never gained on the competition. Patrick’s work has appeared in Former People, Literati Quarterly, Burningword Literary Journal, Crack the Spine, and Grey Sparrow Journal, among other publications.
They were never one
always two
yet they had five,
adults themselves now,
bowling pins today
upright in the front pew,
wondering still
after all these years
why the two
were never one.
It’s not a story
the two would tell
even if they could.
They were galaxies apart.
They had no answer
yet they still had five,
adults themselves now
who can celebrate
they’re here at all,
bowling pins today
upright in the front pew.
No need to wonder why
the two who loved them
were never one.
It’s not a story
the two would tell
even if they could.
They’re galaxies away.
Donal Mahoney, a product of Chicago, says he lives in exile now in St. Louis. He has had poetry, fiction and nonfiction published in print and online in various countries. He has worked most of his life as an editor of one thing or another.
The surgeon softly murmurs
that I’ll doubtless live a day or so
and bids my two grown daughters
to leave and get some rest.
I’m busy dying faster.
Willed my remains to science; can’t
stand those phony funeral flowers.
Vodka and V8 in the fridge.
The old dames next door can
go over and drink a final toast.
I’m willing my body to close down.
Rent on the apartment
is due in two days time. If
my girls get a move on, they can
clean the whole place out by then.
And — when my daughters leave to take a nap,
I’ll just wrap up my soul and slip out.
Sandra Rokoff-Lizut is a retired educator, and a children’s book author, printmaker and poet. Her work has appeared in various publications including Illya’s Honey, The Bicycle Review, Wilderness House Review and others.
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