“I am surprised not to see Diane Bill’s picture here,” Phil said. He stood in front of one of the glass front cabinets that Derby Milicance had placed against the wall of his living room. He said it loudly because he was speaking to Derby who was in the kitchen checking the casserole and putting … Continue reading The Quest is the Acquisition
As I watch today’s changing sky, I am surprised to understand how little it reminds me of your eyes. If you expect more of me or this poem— perhaps that I should see, in that blue and changeling gray, some vast reflection of steady you, or that this poem should tell how love finds memory … Continue reading Contemplating Blue
Listen, Irene. If I was just playing him, do you think I’d be out here in this walking the dogs? Jesus! If I were just playing, I’d be trailer trashing south for Arizona instead of here in winter walking his goddamned dogs. I made a commitment on him—even if he is tardy on that himself. … Continue reading Andi Finally Ballistics her Future MIL
Lee Robison's poem "Love Has No Moon" to appear in anthology.
When JoDee Dees rode up to the gate, the bottle the hunter left was still sitting on the post. His eyes went to it the way eyes do to something they didn’t know they were expecting. He blinked, shifted in his saddle. JoDee focused on Ephraim Sheridan’s three cows, one steer, and two calves strung … Continue reading Rescuing Ellen Sheridan’s Cat
Lavender, scarlet, emerald or sky mottled blue! Or (if you must purchase white) mother of pearl. I’m tired of pea office green and deadly plain suits I don’t wear and am belittled for not by insinuating, superior, Misses, Mrs.s, ms.s, madams, misters, and sirs who snoot and practically sniff (unless they’re assessing sallow or black). … Continue reading Birthday, Christmas and Father’s Day Gifts: Some Advice
Farely was gone. They had taken him to the vet. His tail thumped on the gurney. Then it stopped. The eyes glazed, and he was gone. Dianne was surprised to find herself thinking about it two days later. She had not particularly liked the grubby old dog—he was Doug’s. But she stood at the kitchen … Continue reading Washing the Dog’s Blue Dish
Blind old man, living alone in the nursing home could see but only a girl, smiling in shadows In response to the ragtime community prompt remember.
Del Darlson leaned on his shovel and watched the muddied water burble across the dry alfalfa field. What it murmured he could not say, but he heard the unmistakable laughter of a certain young woman. Above him the clouds unraveled and reraveled the shape of her face, her long slender arms, an angle of her … Continue reading Maria Joseph and the Hills Like. . . .
O, let us sleeve, you on, I in—let us sleeve every all— let us sleeve dirt-- the speckled glint of stars the dapple of water— let us sleeve—you wearing me worn—until we wear each of am and are— until this our has worn out the ages.