June 18, 2020

“Ave Maria on the Moon,” by Frank Diamond

“Ave Maria on the Moon,” by Frank Diamond

Desperation birthed the plan, if you want to call it a birth, and if you want to call it a plan. NASA threw us at the Moon; a Hail Mary pass for world peace, of all clichés. Look how that turned out.  I, Chuck Dunn, now sit at the entrance to the cave-complex at the base of the Marius Hills, behind the screen—or the veil, as we on the mission nicknamed it. The Moonscape stretches before me like an addict’s vision of the Arizona desert: rock formations back-lean as the dinosaurs might have while gazing at the arrival of their extinction event. Further beyond, the cloaked range dead-stops at the horizon. The Earth hovers between two cupped peaks; a raised blue Communion host. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death,…

Continue reading →

March 1, 2020

Milton P. Ehrlich — Poems of Rumination

Milton P. Ehrlich — Poems of Rumination

ONCE Following orders   on the battlefield,  it was kill or be killed   my sergeant said,  no different than   when he taught me  to thrust and parry   with fixed bayonet.  The young soldier  wore thick glasses  and looked a lot like    one of my classmates.  Sergeant claimed  Gooks don’t belong  to the human race.  Don’t ever feel sorry   for killing an enemy,  I can’t forgive myself.  I look down at my finger,  ready to squeeze the trigger,  and hear my mother asking:  What has become of you?  ** THE MARITAL HAPPINESS QUOTIENT    I Uber my way across the country  in my Hugh Hefner silk pajamas  to study happiness in marriages  of all my old friends who are still   walking and talking coherently.  Computer porn ended a few bonds  that had once bloomed like a flower.  For those that served breakfast in bed,  a lotus blossom was…

Continue reading →

July 14, 2019

Ellen Rachlin: Poems of Survival

Ellen Rachlin: Poems of Survival

Strategy     Cannot be hit   …well maybe hit   but not marred   and if marred,   put that thought aside;   just stare at open, fast to strike   surfaces,   then look nowhere   but the eyes.     In spacetime,   there should be   no difference between   what opposing fighters   see and measure,   but here the arc   of a kick holds   mixed coordinates,   so it’s best to move   at all times because   moving is winning,   winning is moving;   punishment is   achieving victory.   Nearby there are always   judges, and rarely, a referee.                                                                                       Continuity     Rage wore itself out   on no-name turf   between opposing hills,   in the end, claiming   Crown and…

Continue reading →

June 13, 2019

The Poetry of Michael Glassman

The Poetry of Michael Glassman

DEATH IN THE DESERT  Heat waves frolic along the desert’s endless edge I hear the shuffling of camel’s toes The soft landing of camel dung  The smell adding to my woes My knees embedded in sand Awaiting the wrath of the Queen of Hearts The bald ibis watches from his rocky perch I glimmer a glint of silver through shrouded eyes To the camels and ibis it’s no surprise They’ve seen many times how a man dies  Heat waves frolic along the desert’s endless edge Having no power to stop their play On a whim of the wind they hold their place The camel and Ibis are rarely seen Betwixt the sand and the dust devil’s space The wind has no say as to what happens next When frolicking ends and attention is paid A man with no head leaves them perplexed To the camel and ibis it’s no surprise They’ve seen many times how a man dies  NEWTOWN SCHOOL BUS DRIVER’S…

Continue reading →