—Photo by Ann Privateer
SO FAR
—Ann Privateer, Davis
Unnamed
people rise and fall
for those who recall: them, him, her
before their time
stilled from what they knew to no more
sojourning in night's excitement.
So lost.
Unnamed
people rise and fall
for those who recall: them, him, her
before their time
stilled from what they knew to no more
sojourning in night's excitement.
So lost.
__________________
THREE CAMEOS
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
PIN CURLS
pin curls
clips in fresh-washed hair
nights sleeping on tin can rollers
junior high
trying to make the perfect waves
decades later, comb and go
wave free
WAVES
sea foam
sea-green bottle glass
waves—color of her true love’s eyes
dip and sway
white foam melting the green away
waves sing—long, golden day drowns
no bounds
ENDING IT
your hands
the ends of your arms
hands stuffed deep within your pockets
no more time
I take one last, long look at you
see one hand slowly surface
you wave
________________
CAMEOS
—Timothy Sandefur, Rescue
1.
That face;
It looked just like her.
Couldn’t be—she lives in Boston
Doesn’t she?
Or did she wander from a dream
To be glimpsed and then
Walk on?
2.
Hitchcock
Put himself in all
His films. Michelangelo drew
His own face
Groaning at the final judgment.
We write ourselves in every
Poem.
That face;
It looked just like her.
Couldn’t be—she lives in Boston
Doesn’t she?
Or did she wander from a dream
To be glimpsed and then
Walk on?
2.
Hitchcock
Put himself in all
His films. Michelangelo drew
His own face
Groaning at the final judgment.
We write ourselves in every
Poem.
Wendy Williams, Hatch Graham, Judy Taylor Graham
—Photo taken at Citrus Heights Area Poets Reading in
Citrus Heights on Saturday, Feb. 16
by Katy Brown
MONTAGUE CAMEOS
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
as if
shipwrecked for a week
of summer on an island washed
by earthquake
waves—not another human, but
sea-wind is always speaking
to us
we walk
the tsunami line,
find old bones flung so far above
high-water
by the sea that daily brings us
iridescent caskets on
the waves
salmon
swimming upriver
in waves to spawn and die—every
thing is past
and future, present, broken length
of fishing line, words in a
bottle—
we move
like tides, gathering
what the sea delivers, driftwood
out of time,
we watch a schooner-rock that sails
forever past our land's-end,
our lives
_________________
CAMEOS
—Caschwa, Sacramento
Dodge Dart
Two Dodge Caravans
Ford Mustang with 289
Ford Taurus
Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera
Chevy Malibu Classic
Honda
***
Crunchy
it melts in the mouth
never had anything so good
succulent
has no unpleasant after taste
the finest ingredients
buy some
***
Have fun
don't stay out too late
remember our discussion well
no drinking
of course you may have some coffee
now relax and enjoy your
night out
***
We met
at a singles club
but she wanted only hundreds
I was broke
so we didn't hit it off then
maybe all's well that ends well
we split
***
To reach
universal truth
turn off the television set
go outside
and take a stroll in the forest
if you live in the city
TV
—Caschwa, Sacramento
Dodge Dart
Two Dodge Caravans
Ford Mustang with 289
Ford Taurus
Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera
Chevy Malibu Classic
Honda
***
Crunchy
it melts in the mouth
never had anything so good
succulent
has no unpleasant after taste
the finest ingredients
buy some
***
Have fun
don't stay out too late
remember our discussion well
no drinking
of course you may have some coffee
now relax and enjoy your
night out
***
We met
at a singles club
but she wanted only hundreds
I was broke
so we didn't hit it off then
maybe all's well that ends well
we split
***
To reach
universal truth
turn off the television set
go outside
and take a stroll in the forest
if you live in the city
TV
__________________
Today's LittleNip:
WAVING FAREWELL
—Nancy Haskett, Modesto
Their hands
fluttered silently,
outstretched, as if yearning to touch
one more time,
separated by a distance
their fingers spelled out the words
good bye
—Nancy Haskett, Modesto
Their hands
fluttered silently,
outstretched, as if yearning to touch
one more time,
separated by a distance
their fingers spelled out the words
good bye
_________________
—Medusa, who reminds you that if you send us a poem in cameo form (see Forms to Fiddle With in the green box at the right of this) on the theme of waves before midnight tonight, we'll send you a free copy of the brand-new WTF. Send 'em to kathykieth@hotmail.com
Spring Crocus
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis