Monday, September 19, 2011

Attacked By Peanut Butter

Photo by Chris Moon

The creek that trickled under, half alive, half dead,
conjured childhood visions in my head.
I passed with caution and paid no toll,
relieved to find there was no troll.

—Chris Moon


—Chris Moon

The golden cat lay curled in the dark corner
Not chased, not afraid, just awaiting eternal sleep
His time had come, earlier than desired

Never before, and never after seen
The sleek, ebony feline shape appeared
Pausing only for a moment, to collect

Was this the famed dark harbinger of death
Or the chariot master on task from Freyja
Looking for a driver for her chariot to the heavens

The golden cat’s brother now stands where he once lay
Awaiting, awaiting his time to fend off the demons
Or accept the Valkyries escort, when his time comes


—Claire J. Baker, Pinole

She & I drew a picture of our souls:
mine was a rounded shape
about four inches across.
It looked & felt like my soul.

My friend asked: "Anything inside?"
I drew some feelings: specks
like raindrops, wavy lines,
a harvest moon.

She drew her soul: an uneven square
with wings, like an odd box
flying through space.
Her feelings were beams
from an undiscovered planet.

A third friend joined us.
We asked if he would draw his soul.
He said he had never seen it.


If someone must use me
to get from one place to another
I wish I were a bridge
instead of as a rung in a ladder
to be stepped on underfoot

—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento


Our nation's infrastructure is crumbling
A slight earthquake could result in a mass tragedy
Our bridges also might suddenly crack and fall to pieces
to either crush our highway's commuters under slabs of concrete
or to dump them into the bay of the Pacific Ocean

—Michelle Kunert


9-12-11 12:03 a.m.
—Michael Cluff, Highland, CA

Just wakin'
I was hangin'
with stubbly fingernails
1777 yards above
a nice palm-tree green forest
and square man-made waterfalls.

This I did
and did not fail
or fall.


—Michael Cluff

Insidious luxury
I cannot indulge
the throat closes
the skin shivers
and men in dark robes
come a visitin'
although a lady
in such
would be nice.

Maybe a mental gag
or not
I am sometimes
punished for reflecting
upon its texture
and taste....

like now.


Today's LittleNip: 

Taxi on Seventh
between the graveyard and park—
which way should he go?

—Michael Cluff



Sacramento poets will be saddened to learn of the passing of Do Gentry. Go to her obituary in The Sacramento Bee's at and sign their wonderful "Guestbook" feature.

 House of Souls by Arthur Machen
Antiquarian Book Sales, Sacramento
—Photo by Michelle Kunert