Ann Keniston, reading at Sac. Poetry Center
last Monday night, March 24
—Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento
I got a video from email "How to train your cat"
They've got to be kidding—
The majority of cats instead "train" their owners—
getting their people to serve them
even if it means waking up their owners at 4 AM
telling them when they want to be fed
and where and how they want their litter box
which they've probably done since ancient Egypt
If one wants an animal that enjoys doing tricks and jumps on command
(as this video claimed a human can spend time doing)—
get a dog...
—Michelle Kunert
______________________
For my March cat photo calendar I got at a dollar store
For my March cat photo calendar I got at a dollar store
There's a striped kitten that seems to be kissing the beak of a duckling
It's as if the duckling doesn't know he or she is with a little carnivore
and for a grown, bigger cat the duckling could be food instead of a potential friend
—Michelle Kunert
_____________________
DEMOTED
—Caschwa, Sacramento
Come quick!
Grab a powerful
Telescope and
Train the lens on
That fuzzy area
Out beyond Pluto
Orbiting the sun
But not really
Part of our system
Can you see them?
Busy, energized
Swarms of adverbs
Those parts of speech
They only teach
In grammar school
And then when we
Grow up they are
Jettisoned to
The farthest dark
Corners of our
Solar system
So how does one
Get corners in an
Orbit? Don’t agonize
About it. The
Answer is found
Among the adverbs
Now put that
Telescope down
Delicate and ginger
_____________________
HUMP DAY
—Caschwa
—Caschwa, Sacramento
Come quick!
Grab a powerful
Telescope and
Train the lens on
That fuzzy area
Out beyond Pluto
Orbiting the sun
But not really
Part of our system
Can you see them?
Busy, energized
Swarms of adverbs
Those parts of speech
They only teach
In grammar school
And then when we
Grow up they are
Jettisoned to
The farthest dark
Corners of our
Solar system
So how does one
Get corners in an
Orbit? Don’t agonize
About it. The
Answer is found
Among the adverbs
Now put that
Telescope down
Delicate and ginger
_____________________
HUMP DAY
—Caschwa
Good morning!
A cup of coffee
Please with sugar
One lump or two?
Well, how many
Humps are there
In hump day?
I lost count.
Perfect. Just keep
Adding lumps until
You lose count
David Koehn at Sac. Poetry Center
Monday, March 24
—Photo by Michelle Kunert
again, spring
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
slow, sad, heavy
thunderstorm broods
spring reveals herself
budding, lush, fragrant
wet, soft air
storm passes over
rain will not fall today
maybe tonight
earth craves rain
sad, expectant
like the gaze
of a shy, sixty-year-old
woman in love
______________________
life creates life
—Ann Wehrman
life creates life
—Ann Wehrman
smooth white ovals
eggs drop newly laid
inside each a world of soul
unique life unknown
escalating heights pleasure, pain
destiny, great accomplishment
birthmark, sixth digit
your laugh, her willfulness
eggs impersonal opaque
thin shells, dense blinds
hide multifaceted inhabitants
which order will they take?
which goes with which?
if I break this one into the pan,
will mayhem or peace result?
in her great imagination
life creates life, bubbles, eggs
inside each, Wonderland
outside, just another egg
bubbles floating on air currents
floating away
_____________________
BLESSINGS
—Ann Wehrman
at my desk tonight
working late, alone
hazy with exhaustion
late dinner fails to blunt my loneliness
I am chided
to count my blessings
by a stranger’s words
in a horoscope
I remember
feeling completely safe
feeling relaxed
feeling infinite wild love
standing in a field
under vast stars
fireflies all around
muggy Midwestern night
sleeping cherished
poor, hungry
warm in my lover’s embrace
fire of our wordless bond
losing, then finding myself
kindred souls
favorite authors’ minds
through reading their books
Christmas Eve too excited to sleep
my sister and I
Nutcracker Suite on the stereo
still believing in Santa
each day a
brave act, tense against fear
loins girded for battle
foes real, perhaps not
let it go, breathe
let it go, cry
then remember
warm with gratitude
_____________________
Today's LittleNip:
MUSINGS BY DON GIOVANNI IN HELL
—Ann Wehrman
race through eating
food without taste, smell
appetite not hunger
like a machine
food tastes like nothing
like cardboard, air
dribbles down my chin
starving, I reach for more
—Ann Wehrman
race through eating
food without taste, smell
appetite not hunger
like a machine
food tastes like nothing
like cardboard, air
dribbles down my chin
starving, I reach for more
_____________________
—Medusa
Brother Hypnotic's daughter Ayinana Antwine
reads her published poem at Sac. Poetry Center
on March 17
—Photo by Michelle Kunert