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'65
by Erren Geraud Kelly watts went up in flames martin luther king went there and tried to put the fire out but they chased him out "we don't want him here," they yelled only thing i respected about california black people was that they didn't take any shit off the whites in l.a., everything is spread out and everyone lives in their own little world in the '80's, nwa, eazy-e, ice cube and ice t repped south central, now it's mostly latino white kids brag about being gangsta rappers and youtube can make any poindexter a star at ucla, sorority girls flirt with me as i help them move furniture up the road in bel-air, a maid gets off the bus and walks to work she dreams of living in a neighborhood like that every coffeehouse i go to i always meet an actor or a screenwriter or a model or a dancer at a check cashing place in hollywood a woman stands besides me, cashes a check and gets a brick of one hundred dollar bills her breasts belongs on a cartoon character she may have stolen her body from jessica rabbit porn star, i'm thinking as i sit on the sand at sunset beach, i wonder how much am i willing to pay to make my dreams come true? |
FACE OFF by Brent Wiggans |
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EREUTHOPHILIAC
by A.J. Huffman Perfectly pouted stain of lips. Light glaring down, intersection's stall. Skin scrubbed raw to remove tell-tale Studio stamp. Flesh of twinned fruit waiting to be seeded by teeth. Twizzlers, Tobasco, heirloom tomatoes. Peel of daily deterrent of doctor. Matador's cape raging bull forward. The little engine that could, the fire engine that does. Shade of sky that warns or heralds sailor's delight. A lover's solo-rose promise. Recessive hair's genetic proclivity. Teacher's corrective ink. Cardinal's winter wings. 99 balloons of song. The perfect pair of stiletto heels. Adulterer's brand. |
NEAR DARK by Christian DeLaO |
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FIRESIDE CHAT
by Thomas Piekarski Aurora Borealis in the mind's eye illumes a hidden world where birds don't stir and elephants fly. Wool spun on a wooden wheel makes cloth, and so it's incumbent on you to vote your conscience. Assured that you've saved adequate time in storage, enough to last a life, a noble goal is achieved. Mosque in Quebec shot up, and another in Texas burned to the ground. Tut-tut. Ta-ta. My side is your side as we watch siblings on the obverse of our planet skip, slurping sunshine. Superconductor technology promises data will be transmitted instantaneously to an appreciative society. Applaud the beginning's end of whining about ostensibly insurmountable obstacles we face. Being seems surreal but isn't any more than my cat in its cove lapping wine from a silver chalice. So many problems to solve sans solutions in the queue add up to melancholy come spring. The human element seems foreign as faces vaporize while one walks a long block downtown at midnight. Once love was an obvious imperative for sanguine peoples getting licked by gleaming moonbeams. |
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