Monday, June 18, 2018

June 25, 2018





The Beagle
with a nod to Alfred, Lord Tennyson
She bites the bone with jowly jaws;
Halts its escape with padded paws,
Flush in the fire of sport, she gnaws.

In quiet triumph up she creeps;
Onto the master's bed she leaps,
And like the happy dead she sleeps.

by Daniel Galef
in volume 6 issue 1

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June 18, 2018






Therapying Thunderstorms

Thunderstorm! Thy thoughtlessness
thrums the throng. Thy thanklessness!
Throttle thy thickening,
that thunderous threadbare thing!
The thermostatic threat,
the thrilling thunder that
thrashes the thicket thick.
Thoughtless thingamajig,
think through the therapy!
Throw thunderclaps thriftily.


---


Robespierre's Ruin

Robespierre's regency
repressed resistance rabidly.
Radical, raw revolution's
result: ruthless retribution
ruined Robespierre's rivals,
ruleless racketeer's revival.
Raiders roared: "Recrimination!
Repressor's rotten reputation
razes, razzes radically,
racking rattler's rabies rally,
rampant rampage, ruptured, rare!
Rope repressor Robespierre!"
Robespierre returned: "Rough raiders!
Royalism's renovators!
Revolution's revelation
requires revitalization!"

Raiders roared: "Resolutely
rumple Roby's raw rump, rudely!"
Robespierre raved: "Reunite,
raze reaction, regicides!
Royalistic relic's rising
requires rough reorganizing!"
roaring, running, restlessly,
rancorous rabidity.
Raiders razed rude racketeer
Robespierre's rabid rear.
Recall, recapitulation:
Robespierre's ruination,
revolutionary rat race:
revolutionaries replaced
resolutely, radically,
rotten Robespierre rascally.

by Alex Dreppec
in volume 6 issue 1

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Monday, June 11, 2018

June 11, 2018







E.E. Cummings at Jurassic World

She being brand New
and consequently hungry for meat,
hid amongst the leaves
with Her tree frog lineage,

(having deceitfully marked the
wall to lead Her food inside,
to make sure it was nice
and fresh)

they pulled the lever and entered the door
as She stood watching,
waiting,
ever
so slowly,
as she moved
up
be-
hind
them.

they moved
in sep-
a-
rate
di-
rec-
tions
as She edged
closer,
closer,
until She
could smell the mar-
row in the bones,
Her heart beating faster
as she came upon the first
of Her feast
and its heart
beat
quickened
at the sensation
of Her teeth
as they clamped
down,

snapping into its tiny body,
warm liquid gushing,
meat stuck between Her teeth
and with two bites
and a quick swallow
She finished the first
and moved on to
the second;
the first, just a snack
to wet Her insatiable
appetite,
and
ever
burgeoning
&
excogitating
desires,
laid out
across the
land
in front
of-
Her.

by Angela Spires
in volume 6 issue 2

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Monday, June 4, 2018

June 4, 2018







For They

In perfect rhyme and strictest meetah,
I sing in praise of Annelida.
(If high school Latin made you squirm,
You may not know that s/he's a worm.)

To turn the pebbles into soil,
S/he plies hir lowly, mighty toil
Dissolving dirt, digesting loam.
No light nor air, s/he's quite at home

In hardest clay or rain-soaked bed
To burrow forth without a head.
S/he bores a path for future roots
So nimbly, though s/he has no foots.

To compensate this lack of legs,
Her fore makes sperm, his aft lays eggs!
What biologic elegance—
Two tickets each to Darwin's dance.

Some folks are fond of clear, bright lines,
They take affront at androgynes—
But why should they be made uptight?
Earth's crawling with hermaphrodites!

Their bodies compass two in one,
So copulation's double fun.
Slugs and grubs and flowers, too,
They pack both sperm and egg; what's new

Is separation.     Such a fuss,
Such rigid norms from brutes like us!
And thus this poem finds its ender:
Celebrate diversive gender!


by Josh Mitteldorf
in volume 6 issue 1

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Monday, May 28, 2018

May 28, 2018






The Politician's Serenity Prayer
with a nod to Karl Paul Reinhold Niebuhr
God grant me the
serenity to accept
the facts I can easily
change; the courage
to convince others
that they are true;
and the wisdom to
know always next
to nothing.

by Martin H. Levinson


The Donald at the Plate
with a nod to Ernest Lawrence Thayer
The votes were tough to come by in the Congress on that day;
The leaders sought agreement but the members had their say.
And then one member voted "No," another did the same;
With this failure of consensus, the Chairman laid out blame.

The faces of the members showed a shadow of despair;
And desperate for a winner, held a meeting with the Chair;
Said, "Let's eke out a margin and get Donald to the plate—
To the bully and his bluster, we'll entrust our party's fate!"

But the House preceded Donald, and the Senate, goodness sake;
The House's dealings riotous, the Senate's were opaque.
So upon the true believers, a piteous sadness sat,
They'd dreamed of killing health care with one swing of the bat.

Then the House cooked up a bill, to the wonderment of all,
And the Senate dreamed up another, in a most astounded hall!
When the smoke-filled rooms were opened, all saw what had occurred,
They were desperate to pass anything, lest Donald break his word.

Donald's strident partisans let loose a thunderous roar;
So sure the one they'd chosen would find a way to score;
They called out loud from every door, and at the White House gate,
As mighty Donald waved his hat to Make-America-Great.

Confident, Donald felt himself a tribute to his race.
Pride fueled Donald's swagger; a grin adorned the Donald's face.
And greeting the adoring throngs, he lightly touched his hair;
Even foes could not deny,'twas Donald under there.

Like eagles we all watched him and the hacks that he inserted;
But partisans applauded Cabinet missions he subverted.
As pleading migrants wailed when thrown back upon their ship,
He hired brutal border guards to tighten his harsh grip.

And such his cruel pronouncements came tweeting through the air;
Seeing, we could scarce believe how coarse the drivel written there.
Immigration court's injunction, then past the Donald sped—
"That ain't my style," said Donald. "Strike one!" the judges said.

On benches black-robed jurists, with calm dignity they bore
The rumblings and the grumblings of Donald's partisan roar;
"Fire them! Fire the judges!" his base shouted long and loud;
"Crooked Hillary!" screamed others. Nodding, Donald worked the crowd.

When questions came of fake news traced back to Russia's zone;
Attention was diverted with tweets a-flying from his phone.
His poison pill for health care, the Senate finally withdrew,
Donald just shrugged off defeat, as the Congress said, "Strike two!"

He redirected wrath toward a foreign terror foe.
Believers knew that Donald wouldn't let that third strike go.
Hushed, they watched him hunker down—muscles tense and senses strained,
They knew as Donald promised, he'd make sure that swamp was drained.

His crew knew that Donald would ne'er admit a loser's fate,
His pledge to build a border wall, still left upon his plate.
Fed up with his cruel prejudice, we debunked this sorry show,
"We won't allow your border wall. We The People just say—No!"

O'er rocky mountain majesties and plains of wind-swept grains,
The sun still smiles on city streets and factory window panes;
But in the Oval Office—head thrown back, lips in full pout—
Darkness fills his tiny space—mighty Donald has struck out.

by Don Fleming
in volume 6 issue 2

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