Waiting For The Moon

Things Are Looking Up

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock, Anthioch

A THING TIME DOES

—William S. Gainer, Grass Valley

It’s been a while
I still miss you
still worry
you know
it’s a thing I
do.

I’m feeling
good about it
though,

you
and the world—

take a bite kid
it’s all sweet.

Remember
no matter what—
you’ll always have
tomorrow—
me
yesterday.

It’s a thing
time does
keeps us apart
just
that much...

__________________

SUMMER'S TEA

—William S. Gainer

The cool of her kiss
high on your cheek.
It’s been a long day
all she can taste
is the dust
and sweat of you
clinging.

The sun hangs long
into the late hours.
She says
the tea needs
more sugar,
but you,
you’re just
right...

The porch
doesn’t blink
as it holds you
both 
and waits
for the moon...

______________________

SATIRIC THOUGHTS ON JURY SELECTION
(for a "crime of passion")

—Claire J. Baker, Pinole

Hello there, are you squeaky clean?
Sponge off grime at every glance?
You see, a jury is a team
of conscience & of balance,
of reasoning people fair & keen
who give considered doubts a chance.

Hopefully you are not too green,
won't slip into a faint or trance,
are far more kind than real nasty,
can take or leave alone "romance"...
You're slow to yesses, likewide can'ts?
Accepted. You'll be slow to lean.

_________________

LAUNDRY
—Claire J. Baker

 
Karen washed my laundry
when I had a nasty virus—
first time anyone offered
since I was mom's kid,
now I'm an elder.

She made chicken soup,
added quick-cook barley,
brought oatmeal, apple juice,
sprouted grain bread, honey
and eye contact.

My laundry not just soiled
but fouled, the apartment
not fragrant despite roses
opening in a vase. Karen used
rubber gloves, but still...
 

 

   Through a Glass Darkly

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock

LIFE, LIBERTY, AND THE PURSUIT OF ENEMIES
—Caschwa, Sacramento

A lonely spud
orbits the Earth
observing the living
lavish lasting love
upon one another

it has neither a
magnetic nor a
moral compass
nor the heart to
feel its loneliness

just artificial eyes
many, many eyes
to gather information
by proxy for someone
on Earth to process

to enjoy the largess
of the view of buttes
from well above gravity
high above loneliness
beyond reach of love

now enter the drones
mindless, blameless
framing an image
target acquired
target destroyed

collateral damage
innocent bystanders
erased by faux fear
due process dismissed
for the greater good

gone are the musket-
toting well-regulated militia
destiny to be history
is now shaped by many,
many artificial eyes

____________________

 

BORDERS

—Taylor Graham, Placerville

A fence
defines our pasture,
sheep-world of green grasses and forbs—

but less green
than beyond, where coyotes hunt
sheep. We must keep on mending
our fence.

____________________

AFTER SURGERY
—Taylor Graham

Herbal
tea's allowed in your strict diet.
You choose chamomile
to wake you—
pale sunshine in a cup that heals
the barb with a honey-squeeze
of sweet.

____________________

PANDORA
—Taylor Graham

And how
shall I mourn my lost
music, when here it is a click
away? Here's
more Bartók, more Milhaud, more Schütz
than I could keep locked safe in
a box.

____________________

Our thanks to today's photographer and poets, who came to us from here, there, and everywhere: Robert Haycock and Claire Baker from the Bay Area, Caschwa and Charles Mariano from Sacramento, Bill Gainer from Grass Valley, and Taylor Graham from Placerville (who took a smooth-handed shot at the wee cameo form—see our Forms to Fiddle With in the green box at the right of this). And happy birthday, too, to Bill Gainer (2/17), with a reminder that he and Caschwa will have poems appearing in the new issue of Rattlesnake Press's WTF which will premiere at Luna's Cafe this coming Thursday, 8pm.

____________________

Today's LittleNip:

not sure,
but i think
i've been living the
last ten years
in sepia tone

—charles mariano, sacramento

____________________

—Medusa

Things Are Looking Up, II

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock