It’s almost midnight and I’m driving Howe on my way home after a poetry reading that went pretty well when a man far from any crosswalk, intersection, or traffic light, jaywalks across six lanes, sees me slow down so he can walk where he wants at any pace, but turns with dark eyes, and fingers […]
How can desert windFeed such magenta tremorInto parched thistle thorn? Like dervish skirts freethe tissue thin hearts float shameless crimson, white and sin free Tangled , tri-colored tight, tongues of fire, spilled like a magdalene’s hair over alabaster walls ~ Maria Robson Maria Robson is a Montreal teacher, freelance writer and translator who loves to […]
There is a time, a change in rhythm almost poetic, a clock ticking deep within his body, circadian a movement between dark and light a time to dream beneath quilt cover a time to open his eyes a time to sit on rocks soak up sun stains on beach lined resort fill vacation hourglass with […]
you barely see it.hook beak. itself cooled magma. patient as a watchtower,in silhouette. its eyes. translatedwith knucklebones the blazing sun. ~ Patrick M. Pilarski Patrick M. Pilarski is the co-editor of DailyHaiku, an international journal of contemporary English-language haiku. His first full collection, Huge Blue, will be released in Sept. 2009 by Leaf Press, and […]
At the age of ninety-five, my father decides on the need for cologne. The traces hover long after he has shuffled by. Fresh. Bracing. Effervescent. Eau de. A perfect cover, I guess, for the cracked vellum-skin beneath. He splashes it on in the space where parchment and spillage meet each morning before a mirror image […]
