Bad Machines and Good Baseball

—Photo by Taylor Graham

THEY OFFER THE WIDOW TWO MORE SECOND CHANCES

—Mary Zeppa, Sacramento

The widow’s white skin snags like parchment.
Still, the widow’s impetuous arms

find the shriveled old man in the corner
slumped in his old, battered dreams.

*

The girl she was stands at her window:
a spring day, 1961.  All the light there is snags

on the blossoming plum, on the red in
her hair, her white arms.  She wants

all of it.  Now.  In the room with her.
She repents every sound-asleep hour.

______________________

FOR JOE DiMAGGIO

—Annie Menebroker, Sacramento

for a long time baseball has been a boy's
dream and spring his time to be kissed awake
because the grass smells good, is tall enough
to cut down, his mitt is oiled and fits him
like a pattern of his leanest need
something he starves for, but the regulators
for a busy life tell him the game's too slow
the heroes are no longer on the mound, at bases
or in the field.  you could build a small village
by the top of the ninth inning and extra
innings are torture.  but he still believes
in the game.  he still believes in the pitcher's
magic, the hitter's power, the catcher's technique.
the umpire's call.  in his dream it's the seventh
inning and the crowd knows all the words to the song.
the bat boy is so full of joy he trips over home plate.

________________________

A BAD MACHINE DAY
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

The weed-eater wouldn't start
so with garden shears I cut some vetch
and clover for the sheep, and took a couple
pictures with my cellphone and then
the camera quit. So I went down to the garden
and of course the soaker-hose had blown
out its connections

and still the clover and the vetch and grasses
kept on growing, two geese flew
honking overhead, and swarms of bugs
were humming to the meadow, and my sheep
moved counterclockwise with the sun.                                                 

Clover and Vetch

—Photo by Taylor Graham

SHAME

—Olga Blu Browne, Sacramento

Shadows of shame stain the night
with sounds that wound.

Broken rocks, silent rivers and
noiseless wings listen to sullen winds.

(first pub. in Brevities)

______________________

EVERGREENS AND TOMBSTONES
—Olga Blu Browne

I, at the edge of my mind, am
witness

to the scent of this knowable
journey

between evergreens and
tombstones.

(first pub. in Brevities)

______________________

THE SPIRIT OF THE POET
—Olga Blu Browne

Following in the trail of moonlight,
toward the sacred fountain of

Vera Cocha. Where the wind
sings through the falling

leaves of the forest. We wait
for the cycle of the

Dawn Star, and the arrival of
Wakea, pale God of wind and

water.

______________________

SOUL'S HARVEST
—Olga Blu Browne

Memory, wisdom or a little ray
of myth,

this raven soars on restless
nights,

waiting for a fool's last breath
and saying no to echoes.


(first pub. in Brevities)

More Clover and Vetch

("...and still the clover and vetch...")

—Photo by Taylor Graham

Today's LittleNip(s):

—Caschwa, Sacramento

SHORT DIALOG

First Speaker:  Well, obviously...
Second Speaker:  Say no more.

*       

THE FIRST ENTITLEMENT PROGRAM

Give us this day our daily bread.

*     

FIRST WORDS

Loan me a leaf

then

Leave me alone

*

FIRST RESPONDER

Huh?
What was that?
Wha' happened?

*

ADVICE

I wouldn't buy any
diabetes supplies
from vendors whose
salesmen have
little beady eyes

___________________

—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors and reminding you that Mary Zeppa and Annie Menebroker will be reading, along with special musical guest Cynthia Speakman, at Sac. Poetry Center this coming Monday, April 29, 7:30pm. For more info, see www.sacramentopoetrycenter.com

—Photo by Taylor Graham