Lift / Left

featured in the poetry forum January 20, 2023  :: 0 comments

If there is not a point at
which the heart is lifted, at
least to which the eyes are
pointed. If there is not a
lift, a point, at which the
eyes are heartened. Then come
spiraling down the hillside
on a bicycle, come freewheeling
down, the bicycle lifted, the eyes,
the heart, a point at which
the hillside opens, beats, the lifted
eyes, the pedals left, the hillside
lifted, the heart is left alone.

editors note:

Brief flight, arrested by hillside. – mh clay

He Hadn’t Always Wanted to be Somebody’s Girl

featured in the poetry forum August 11, 2022  :: 0 comments

From the benches, black with people,
there went up a muffled roar…
Ernest Lawrence Thayer: Casey at the Bat

Some boys like to wear dresses
& play with makeup — at first
he wasn’t one of them. But under-
standing yourself takes time; &
even longer to come to view gender
as a fluid concept. He became more
body conscious, spent time looking
for a particular fit to fit his body;
until sparked by a comment from
a member of his Facebook group,
they started going to the mall, trying
on clothes. Began to relish dressing
up, late nineties style with low-rise
jeans & mid-drift tops, not so much
a personal taste as a required uniform
that helped them express their sense
of style. Even wore heels when she
went out. Serious about it. No longer
role-playing. Now dressed for gender.

editors note:

Whichever way your fluid flows, dress for success. (We welcome Mark to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

I think there’s a thirties musical that goes . . .

featured in the poetry forum April 17, 2022  :: 0 comments

Evidence of increasing age includes
painting by numbers with your eyes
closed. That way the fact that you
don’t have any art tools is of little
import. The sweep across the backs
of your eyelids is what matters, can
be dramatic when what you’ve done
is satisfying, or act as a form of wind-
shield wiper that clears away debris,
or poor color choices, or any other
thing that gets in the way. Don’t for-
get that the last line is left in limbo.

editors note:

Not asleep, just checking the insides of my eyelids for art. – mh clay

Slow Juggernaut

featured in the poetry forum January 28, 2022  :: 0 comments

The structure. Incline, endocrine. Faint
taste of the roundabouts – various birds,
trees at disparate stages of their fruiting.

The approach is a cautious one. Recline,
exocrine. People patiently wait their
turn. The birds attack the trees. Fruit falls.

The results are disappointing. Supine,
decline. Impatience replaces. Death rates
rise. Empty trees. The birds have flown.

editors note:

An anthem for consumer culture. – mh clay