Delicious!

—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

SIX WORDS TO WRITE A STORY

—Caschwa, Sacramento

Use

Crash

Spend

Repair

Test

Return

****

Date

Mate

Late

Wait

Great

Fate

****

Elders

Have

Yesterdays

All

To

Themselves

****

Editor

Goofed

Published

Typos

Rave

Reviews

****

My

Income

Is

On

A

Diet

****

How

Come

Stores

Aren't

Wide

Open?

_______________

UNDER SPELLS

—Michael Cluff, Corona

Amy adored anacondas

a bit too intensely

until one day

she disappeared from all living sight.

Orrin worshipped his orchids

the tiger-lilies especially

overprotected and obliterated them finally

much like Mom did to his dreams.

Ivy idolized indigo tints

in her daydream honeymoons

until Elliot knocked those reveries

into bolts of black or blue.

Ursula became a zombie

under Zebediah's unctuous

incantations and ended up

a slave to tedium forever.

_______________

UNDER SUMMER SPELL

—Michael Cluff

The dryness ends patience

quixotically and the queerness

of the air entitles the id

to run abrupt and avariciously

afoul of serene bicameral souls

waiting in quivers

for

a drop of precipitation

of any sort

coming down or even up

from all types of cloud.

 

—Photo by Katy Brown

BARE NECESSITIES
—David Iribarne, Sacramento

Sweet juicy plums
decadent strawberries
crisp grapes
red red raspberries
quenching watermelons
little blueberries rolling around in your mouth
wet pink peaches
soft bananas
succulent kiwis
crunchy apples
honey dew melons
pleasurable tangerines
lip smacking cranberries
with all this
all that was left
was the skin and the seeds.

__________________

TO AIR IS DIVINE
—David Iribarne

The last time I ever tried to whistle I puckered my lips like you would when you were a child and kissed someone for the first time.  Or if you didn’t have someone you used a pillow or your arm.  I kept blowing and blowing, but no sound would come about.  I licked my lips thinking if there a bit of moisture on my lips it would be easier.  Still nothing.  I angled my eyes downward straining them thinking I would be able to see my lips.   I would breathe with all my might reaching down to the very pit of my stomach wherever that may be and brought the air up ever so slowly and again nothing.  I wondered what it was that I was doing wrong.   Why was it so easy for others to whistle?  They could do it without a care, without effort.  I, on the other hand had to blow and blow and still no sound. I was exhausted.  It seemed so easy and so effortless.  Others just made a little hole upon their lips and they were able to carry a tune.  They were able to have a song and I could only pant.  I could only just sit here and breathe.

___________________

RECIPE FOR DELICIOUS
—David Iribarne

She skated into the room
that night sparkling
bright and shiny
lemon skirt hugged her hips
made my lips wet
my blood boil
my juices began flowing.

Such a treat
such a delight
to see her slowly cache
across the floor.

Temperature raised
ice cubes melted
water luke warm
as it nursed the back of my throat.

Could smell her vanilla body
from across the table as she sat down
She was just the right blend
of milk, cream, and sugar.
Not too much,
but I wanted more,
defiantly more.

She was a prized recipe
a decadent dessert
a succulent cream pie
that sent cliché-
chills down my spine.
She froze my mind.

Her sultry voice
sweet like butter
magically mesmerized me
melted me like chocolate.
She become my new favorite candy.

Stared at her—

so elegant, so precious,
so utterly divine.
 

_____________________

Thanks to today's cooks for the divine fare! Delicious! Carl Schwatz (Caschwa) invented another variation on our Form to Fiddle With (six words to tell a story) by stacking the words—what a good idea! Katy Brown's photos were taken outside the Sacramento Natural Food Coop. And David Iribarne will be competing in the Super Love Jones Love Poem Competition Aug. 18, as well as reading at Shine on Sept. 12. See our b-board for details.

And check out Medusa's latest Facebook album: Roadside Summer by Taylor Graham!

_____________________

Today's LittleNip:

INSPIRED (by a poem by Taylor Graham)

—B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA

Inspired but open

to wonder

by memory's sound

how words slip in

and out of our bios

as another play write,

tired yet set apart—

hears rain and thunder

on notice: "Cats and dogs

along the Cape's landscape,

you are our friends,

stick around, life is like art

drawing in pen and ink

moving in our folios

we will make amends."

________________

—Medusa

 Good Morning, Glory!

—Photo by Katy Brown