a raging fire, a sparkling chasm.
viper slithers to its apogee – the sun –
almost succeeds, almost destroys –
I am justified in brevity, breathing
as I, come face to face,
and so it is – angry souls in each other’s bodies –
while August burns treacherously
in the dry grasses.
Boy leaves tracks. Life trudges.
Read more "Forest Spirit"
Brooding, endorsing the searing sun,
Can’t close the seed captured here,
die brother…live sister….
no distress or bitterness or revenge –
merely randomness that
divides itself unmercifully
After The Party I do my rounds,collect the glasses,some emptied to the last drop,others with anything froma finger of whiskey,a solitary olive,to half a tumbler of flat beer. A couple are rimmedwith lipstickwhile others may bearthe weight of aftershaveor float a littleon a schooner of perfume. I’m no forensic scientist.I can’t identifythe individual drinkers.But I […]
Read more "After The Party"
It’s Been Years I wasn’t expecting a voice from the clouds which was why I didn’t look up when I heard my name called on that busy city sidewalk. Nor did I peer into mail boxes or lift the lids of trash cans. Or peer down at the cracks in the pavement in case I […]
Read more "It’s Been Years"
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"