Afternoon of September 21, 2022

you were meant

to sing and dance and love— 

you fools

~Herb Tate

Paul Newman Looks for a Job

Behind the eight ball,

queuing for a job,

hairdresser for the bald,

the cranially compromised,

gleaming in the fluorescent light,

a hustler with blue eyes

whistles Dixie to a waitress

with purple peepers,

while George C. Scott

sends goslings to the front.

~Robert Witmer

long story short

those guys did have

a vengeful god

~Richard Magahiz

      fibbing ‘bout clean sheets

haven’t washed ‘em never will

      line of succession

~Jerome Berglund

mountain cairn

the quest for validation

of a name

~Keith Evetts

existential crisis

you have

one new notification

~Kelly Moyer

the new fascism of the brain

taking control of my voice 

until I am only an echo

~Kyle Hemmings

Evening of September 20, 2022

chameleon party

no one knows

who’s who

~Daya Bhat

my garden lexicon

eyecandytuft

churchbellflowers

uptickseed

magnificatmint

sandhillcranesbill

boogiewoogiebugleweed

proseofsharon

inthelimelighthydrangea

outfoxglove

daiquiris

~Debbie Strange

and but so

then by which why  —

dragonfly 

~Herb Tate

on a high mountain

looking for fish —

hooting, with laughter

~Herb Tate

aquarium music

fish mouthing

the words

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

a bumblebee pollinates you

in your sleep, you wake up

alone again 

~Kyle Hemmings

Afternoon of September 20, 2022

cobalt horizon

in a cosmonaut’s helmet

the buzz

~Anna Cates

fourth dimension

tethered to the taxi

moon and i

~Daya Bhat

waxing under the moon starlet

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

moon migrants

we run out of

cherry soda

~Kyle Hemmings

meteor sizzling

above the bog—

night fall

full of frogs,

strange foreboding

~Anna Cates

in dreams still stirring

even taking flight—

Pegasus

~Anna Cates

wedding date

countdown to the clash

of planets

~Daya Bhat