Horses I know about the wild horses in your head. Your skin, that sings with the sandstorm of their manes. My pulse also gallops with their racing. The grasslands of my soul have been swept flat with the winds wept by their tails. My heart has been worn ragged by their hooves and I can […]Read more "Horses"
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, South Carolina Review, Stillwater Review, and Big Muddy Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Cape Rock, and Spoon River Poetry Review. To Be Precise it occurs to me as I watch you sleeping how you are the result of an […]Read more "To Be Precise"
So, today—well, it’s like everyday, but sometimes more connective than others. A small sea of tables wait quietly and orderly in the dining room. Glinting glassware waiting to be filled. Empty tables waiting for me to wait. Every newly seated table is a microcosm, a little world unto itself. Walking up is a quick study’s […]Read more "Order Up: Memoirs of a Waitress"