featured in the poetry forum March 29, 2024  :: 0 comments

May 10, 6:15 PM., the sky floodlights of color,
red rose and yellow marsh marigold and daffodil,
and then the cloud works fill themselves with a weight in water
thickening into an ocean storm, turbulent and graying,
large waves with a litter of whitewash and misty smoke.
Everything darkens, but still no rain, no breath of strong wind,
and within a sudden lurch of color and rising pressure,
cloud caves open, dark blues and purples swim into their openings.
Still no rain, no wind, only the soft caress of a breeze cooling the air
and in the western horizon a splash of pink with a tint of red.
Night falls. The moon exposes the shadowed light outlining its face.

editors note:

Red sky at night… – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum July 21, 2023  :: 1 comment

I do not know who I am, but I do know
I am not the red winged blackbird scaling the tall grass near the road
or the snail slug attached to the undergrowth of a brick.
Nor am I the rat dependent on a prisoner for care.
Hard and fast I find myself, a garden gate swinging open unexpectedly,
no wind through the leaves, no breeze across the dandelions, not even breath.
Can I be the lover’s kiss? The soft caress? One finger focused on another’s palm?
The brand new lens allowing the brilliance of brand new sight?
Perhaps I am only the apology, the insecure sorry bent and breaking,
the I-have-already-apologized-for-that — can’t you let it go? —
the red winged blackbird hoping to lift its body above the reeds,
the snail slug married to its one brick terrain,
the rat entering the concrete floor hungry, hopeful, anticipating home.

editors note:

Perhaps, each of these in turn. It’s a long journey, after all. – mh clay

The Land Owner

June 27, 2023  :: 0 comments

From Meth Mountain Chronicles I wanted to be a pacifist, he said to no one in particular. There were five of us in the bar if you include the barkeep who kept on cleaning the same five glasses again and again. One guy stood at the bar drinking whiskey and rye, nearby another sat on a bar stool and every …


featured in the poetry forum November 27, 2022  :: 0 comments

My hand goes through his fur as if it were sand,
his loose leaf skin water,
and he lays his large head on my lap,
his work as a dog done for today.
It is time to sleep.
He snores louder,
his body still,
all of his exuberance and noisy appreciation of life
idled to a list of breaths,
the warm sand of his fur,
the cool water of his skin.

editors note:

An enchanting entrapment. – mh clay


September 24, 2022  :: 0 comments

How much longer? Don’t know. I don’t remember it being this long last time. No, last time was over quickly, but I remember another time I waited almost three hours. We’ve been waiting almost an hour. Doesn’t matter. It’s going to be worth it. We’re getting new faces, remember? Faces of a better quality than we ever had before. Guess …

The Problem with Marvin

April 26, 2022  :: 0 comments

Marvin called time and temperature many times during the week. He felt he needed to hear another human voice and too often he felt the recording was a real person talking only to him. Then one beautiful Thursday morning, he dialed the number and the voice said, “Marvin, get outside. It’s a beautiful day. Just beautiful. Go to the park, …

The Pissing Contest

September 25, 2021  :: 0 comments

The late morning sky was clear-eyed blue, rich, almost regal. There was no breeze, a soft November, the trees naked of leaves, the sun too bright. “Summer,” one of them muttered. None of them could remember a November this warm. They walked in a small cluster down the center of the street as was their practice: five boys, not a …


featured in the poetry forum August 18, 2021  :: 0 comments

he magic in the tirade of dogs,
song in festival of bliss–
we sing cause we want to
not cause we must/
we dance cause we need to
not cause we lust

but when they came,
we already there safe–
not grounded–
and we entered palace
of their injury
within our palace of inquiry.

editors note:

Sometimes, if we knew, we wouldn’t ask. – mh clay

Hunger Pangs

January 16, 2021  :: 0 comments

I’m finished with the second box of matzo and we still have a hundred or so miles to go. One piece of matzah every ten to twenty miles. It keeps me awake and I like the way it crunches, changes texture, leaves a slight film in my mouth. I always take a five to ten-mile break between each piece. “Hey,” …

The Happy Couple

September 12, 2020  :: 0 comments

Everything began when the larger dog attacked the beagle and drew a six-inch bloody gash across its side. Nick rushed to his dog, picked it up gently and carried it to the porch where the old man sat reading the newspaper. “Can you give me a ride to the vet?” he asked. Before the old man could answer, he added, …