Rhyme #1: ‘Its use is not a burden’
Its use is not a burden but a clue There’s something after it, or me, or you. Rhyme can also make hot arguments Hop along, less hot, or harsh, or sad; Or, bind some disparate thoughts, as if they had A common quality of resonance. Young boys may have their soldiers, girls their dolls, But plastic playmates make for lonely souls; Twins have each other, though, and the delight Of tickling each other’s feet all night, Even the thought of which might be enough To thwart, in part, the flesh-inflicted curse Suggesting things are here to share, like love, A night, a couplet, or the...
Read MoreThe Red Panda
I don’t breed well in captivity. This is a problem, because I live in a cage. Although I enjoy telling other animals that I was born in the wild, the truth is that I’ve been in one cage or another for as long as I can remember. I have some very vague recollections of the wild that feel like a scene from a dream, everything was dark green and scary. But my first clear memories are of the zoo back in Nebraska where I had spent most of my life. My current cage is the most frustrating one I’ve been in yet. The female they have me with, Shama, is not my type at all. I was talking about this...
Read MoreFeatured Works: Week of July 17 (Life Cycle)
Life is a series of moments: all of them important. This week our contributors provide glimpses of moments along the path of life. “The First Minutes” by Josh Karaczewski provides a unique perspective on a crucial life moment. “The Red Panda” by Aaron Sokoloff follows a zoo animal on the search for love and adventure. “Off the Road to Hana” and “The Sky is Bursting with Rainlight” by Tim Staley shows how one person processes the loss of a family member. “Last Days of Uncle Arnold” by Ayaz Daryl Nielsen depicts moments at the end of a...
Read MoreLast Days of Uncle Arnold (a poem series)
I see you perched on a Nebraska hay bale communing with your delirium while all around the rolling Sand Hills gently beckon to one whose life was lived among them. these Sand Hills, this ranch, home for far-journeying winds, sandhill cranes and willful, way- ward nieces and nephews Nebraska hayfield brother, cousins, uncle and grandma’s dinner bell our rancher uncle as the cancer advances I drive the pickup on a last outdoor errand checking on his newborn...
Read MoreThe Sky is Bursting with Rainlight
for Angela Humphreys Staley 1965-2016 With sunset comes rain and the sky glows with it. The sky is bursting with rainlight, it sweeps the court of people. Even the giant moths circling the overhead lights hang it up for the night. And for a while we stand together against the fence, our fingers hanging from memories like hooks. The moon closes what the sun begins. On the empty court, puddles of moon light and tell me Angela can’t be smiling there in that light, in that bright, trembling light, and we won’t turn the lights off on her, not tonight, not...
Read MoreOff the Road to Hana
for Angela Humphreys Staley 1965-2016 Last summer the doctors found a gray smudge on her lung and I found the clouds puffy at the edges like scabs after swimming all day in the lake. And I know scabs aren’t the color of clouds, but how lucky I was weightless with my wife floating in the lake trading words for clouds. I can keep you in perfect peace as you stay close to Me underlined in her bible, lightly the word funeral in the margin. She was headed all the way back to the initial breath like a bubble in reverse. My brother called to say he unplugged her life support. I blew...
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