ALAS – By Elaine Nadal I was told I have her eyes, her thick brows– didn’t think much of it: We all have something of someone. My sister has Aunt Natalia’s smile. My brother has Uncle Silo’s curly hair (back in the day when my uncle had hair). I was just glad I didn’t inherit Aunt Rosa’s squared shape. […]
Read more
Faces So many faces yesterday, a blur on the canvas of a life; one in deep, seemingly sad thought; fast moving in and out of existences they will never encounter. A mustache sticks on top of a long blond beard unkempt, Groucho’s no doubt, with the dark rims Buddy loved so, and the long wig, blond, red, curly, […]
Read more
A Sisyphus Moment There’s a force that makes a boulder hard to push up a hill. And there’s always a boulder and always a hill when it comes to helping the poor find something to eat, somewhere to live, a job they can go to every day. Sometimes the boulder slips and rolls back downhill and Sisyphus jumps aside. Accidents happen. […]
Read more
Quick Pics A baseball player wanting to win stands for the National Anthem hand on heart, but not really listening intent on getting a hit. A concentration camp guard wanting obedience listens to a Beethoven sonata, swept away by its beauty, while his prisoners, live in terror. A business man wanting greater profits listens to classic rock on […]
Read more
There’s the varnish. the wall. the tinder of grey, that give off the stench, of a world trying; in the pontificate. the joke, the stretch. Monotones; That wonder whether to accost, Accede. An unfamiliar rotundity next to a soon to close bar. I walk past those ponds you cropped thinking of the roads you traveled the gush sonorous. […]
Read more
On the Death of Dada Face your fate, old friend. The Cabaret Voltaire’s been closed. The movement’s at its end, but I suppose That those of us who live In the snakepit’s writhing dance Have learned, through you, to give Our poetry a second chance. Shall we dance? I know you died before My birth; it was a quarter […]
Read more
Vivaldi in Love (By John Biscello) Spring. tender bud raising gravity in the center of a palm. Summer. drawn and quartered shafts of light mouthing the sea. Fall. fetal leaves curling in on themselves— inversion banking on faith. Winter. hospitable conjoinment of bare limbs relishing arson and lace. Originally from Brooklyn, NY, author, poet and […]
Read more
Salt and Pepper White privilege it’s called and recently I learned its name although I’ve been white as a sheet for decades. Like breathing and eating I take white privilege for granted. I push a cart through a megastore in bib overalls and no one follows me and when I hail a cab in a snow storm, it picks me up. My freckles may be a stop sign. Not so […]
Read more
My Awkuzu Mistake Maybe it’d been a perfect end That time we shared at Awkuzu On crumpled cotton bedsheets— Testimony of what we called love Or maybe we should’ve just ended it That infamous night in February You confessed I was not the only one And yet you called it love That was not the only lie […]
Read more
LOST (By Joseph Cavera) when the wist of man to see the brightest days and nights the flares and roses that flame free humanity looks to these sights the ages and ages that lay within universe and space which is all the eternal burning, longevic din lights ephermally, bring the stall of life and sight to eyes that seek […]
Read more