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Showing posts from November, 2016

Crèche, a prose poem by Michael Brockley

Crèche by Michael Brockley This year you build a Nativity scene with a green Tyrannosaurus Rex leering into the stable. Its buck teeth glisten whenever a car turns down your block, and its torpid tail reminds you how fragile your knowledge has grown. Batman straddles the roof as if he has rappelled down the side of a Bethlehem skyscraper. The Native American Thunderbird from your bolo tie affixed to the roof serves as the crèche star. This is the year the redhead left you for a stuntman she met at Sundance. The year your veterinarian injected pentobarbital into your last dog’s thigh. You position three Darth Vadars on the straw while Homer’s son bangs on a Lego drum. A rhinoceros and a one-eared kangaroo shiver across the dying campfire from the dinosaur. Frigid or fearful. You’ve never figured it out. Conan the Barbarian kneels at the fire, feeding it scraps of Hershey Kiss wrappers. Discarded holiday ribbons. His battle ax strapped across his back. Wile E. Coyote peeks from be...

Spending Thanksgiving Day Alone, a poem by George Fish

Spending Thanksgiving Day Alone by George Fish Yeah, well, that’s a real turkey! Yep, far more wobble than gobble! And when Thanksgiving Day dinner is a sandwich made festive for the holiday with four slices of bologna garnished with a whole two slices of Muenster cheese and a good dollop of horseradish mustard— well, that’s clearly a turkey that ain’t a turkey! Yeah, you who’ve been there know exactly what I mean. Bio: George Fish is an Indiana freelance journalist and poet whose work has appeared in several national and regional publications and websites, especially those of left and alternative publications. He has been described as "knowledgeable in an unusual variety of fields." In addition to short stories and poems, Fish has also published extensively on economics and politics; popular music, especially blues; and humor. He also does Lenny Bruce/George Carlin-inspired stand-up comedy.  

Sword of Maturity, a poem by Frederick Michaels

Sword of Maturity by Frederick Michaels Hand hammer forged, purified in myriad layers like innocent childhood wishes folded into Xbox dreams with young adult ambitions, welding YouTube to Facebook. Grown-up visions shaped by iPhone and LinkedIn — quenched in disappointment, reheated in reality’s fire, rehoned to a sharper edge, polished to a brighter future. Sheathed in scar tissue, oiled by hard-won success, hardened by experience yet, soft as Corinthian leather, her childhood wishes shine like those in innocent eyes. Bio: Frederick Michaels writes in retirement from his home in Indianapolis. His poetry has appeared in Flying Island, So It Goes Literary Journal, The Boston Poetry Journal, Branches magazine and Lone Stars magazine, among others. A number of his poems are included in the anthologies Reckless Writing 2012 and 2013 (from Chatter House Press, Indianapolis) and Naturally Yours (edited and self-published by Stacy Savage and Kathy Chaffin Gerstorff). ...

Favorite Author, a poem by Lylanne Musselman

Editor's note:  Kurt Vonnegut was born on Nov. 11, 1922. Favorite Author by Lylanne Musselman Pall-Mall smoker, satirical joker, technology hater, Kilgore Trout creator, POW survivor, witty writer, selfie screenprinter, granfalloon spinner, generational uniter, political divider, famous Hoosier, mustache wearer, advice giver, life observer, Saab dealer, blues stealer, wampeters definer, reading reviver, so it goes sayer, controversy diver. In a reading rut? Get Vonnegut. Bio:  Lylanne Musselman is an award winning poet, playwright, and artist. Her work has appeared in  Pank, Flying Island, The Tipton Poetry Journal, Poetry Breakfast ,  So it Goes, Issue 3,  among others, and many anthologies.  In addition, Musselman has twice been a Pushcart nominee. Musselman is the author of three chapbooks, with a fourth forthcoming,  Weathering Under the Cat,  from Finishing Line Press. She also...