Friday, March 13, 2015

Throwbacks & Other Chaos

—Photo by Charles Mariano, Sacramento

—Charles Mariano


people are scrolling, texting,
into lit screens
tiny, flat boxes
where fingers move,
not lips and tongues

no one looks you in the eye
mesmerized, zeroed-in

don’t have a cell phone
my Smart phone is a
iKnow-Nada phone

a fatal choice i suppose,
but i see flowers, trees,
and real people

wasn’t that long ago
people talked out loud,
saw facial expressions
in real time

am i being left out, passed by?

“excuse me sir, do you have the time?”
then point to my wrist

he looks at me wide-eyed, totally freaked
“wha…wha…what’s that mean?”

“what time is it?”
i ask

he scrunches his face, then goes cross-eyed,
“wait a sec, i have an app”

thumb right, thumb left…
scroll, scroll, scroll…recalculating



—Kevin Jones, Elk Grove
Was just
What Little Tommy
And his partner Earl
The Pearl
At closing time.

Something about
A lack of a license,
Best disappear
Now, will keep
The cops off.
And we did.

But always
One last drink:
Full, thick,
One more
Before the door.
Always worked.

—Anonymous Photo

—Caschwa, Sacramento

Thirteen soaking dogs
Shook off the foul water
Into which their master
Had immersed them

Then they bit their master
Again and again
Until he left them alone
To fend for themselves

They were better off now
Without that cursed master
And his egregious habits
Liberty and freedom at last!

Each day the 13 dogs
Would visit 13 garbage piles
As dogs are known to do
And stay a while, sniffing

Royalty, caste, slavery,
Pecking order, entitlements,
Survival of the fittest, class,
Connections, bloodline,

Elitism, top dog, favored few,
Lord of the Flies
Every day

Each new generation
Would have to shake off
That same old foul water.
All over again

 —Anonymous Photo

—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento

            Versions after Eugéne Guillevic

Fouillis d’Etoiles              
(Chaos of Stars)

Sometimes the nights are so bright
They’re like omens.

Perhaps it is a grand richness of stars,
That in this chaotic ritual

In confusion, you can hardly distinguish
The sometimes stars that will soon
Be extinguished.

Le Soleil
(The Sun)

The sun is never
By himself, the one to
See the magnification of night.

And in that darkness he spews
Forth, clabbers all about him
That light.


—Jeanine Stevens

            A Version after Paul Valéry

Intricate seeds evince rampant growth,
the duration, a complete life programmed
to explode your lumpy sphere,
your sovereign brow exposed!

There is suffering from this internal sun,
the template already primed.
Tucks enfold parchment partitions, tough
pith and membrane brake to fisted seeds.

Pomegranates, if your leathery bark must
surrender to this un-beseeched combustion,
this garnet river of molten juices—

then I, in a reverie, witness this radiant rupture,
my wanton spirit searching
your ornate structure, a sepulcher aflame.


Today's LittleNip:

We live in a rainbow of chaos.

—Paul Cezanne


—Medusa, thanking today's contributors and wishing you a most fortunate Friday the 13th.

Unfortunate Owl, who has his feathers in a huff