Afternoon of December 9, 2022

I. Escape

planned by the small green turtle that lived in a glass bowl,

with only a plastic tree and fake rock for company,

clean dish of water and flakes of turtle food

his only diversion as he explored his environment

~Julie A. Dickson

II. Except

late at night, he climbed from the bowl, ambitious journey

from table down to the floor heat duct through narrow

metal slats, landing in a low pan of water

for humidity – a turtle’s heated swimming pool

~Julie A. Dickson

III. Search

in the morning for missing turtle, absent from his bowl,

found in the heat duct, pan of water happily swimming.

Retrieved, returned turtle back to the glass bowl prison

where he spent the day planning his next escape

~Julie A. Dickson

cataract fact sheet

can't

read it

~Ruth Holzer

fleabag motel a parrot screeches hello

~Adrian Bouter 

in a window of the old age home canaries


~Ruth Holzer

rickshaw pulling

the pause

between each song

~Daipayan Nair

retirement cake—

thirty years

of heartburn

~Ruth Holzer

My only proper clothes

Are the two hoodies

I have lucked into

Over the several

Last months

And it goes downhill

From there

For Gerry

Veryvery

Fast

~Gerard Sarnat

He swallows all the sleeping pills,

he bags his head in plastic.

He leaves no note, no text, no cry.

He only leaves us silence.

~Nolcha Fox

false sense of well-being better than no sense at all Xanax

~Ruth Holzer

every day a pilgrimage wheelie bins

~Ruth Holzer

i escape

with white horses

this disjunctive world
 

~Wanda Amos

five fleas...

a roo’s ear twitching

in the outback heat

~Wanda Amos

a fly

in my shiraz

dying with dignity

~Wanda Amos