MAP
#77
Theme:
Midnight To Dawn Instant Anthology
1.
Aaron Sanders of Austin
Monet
How
do you see me
When
the clock passes 2:34
And
there's nothing anymore
But
blankets, bed,
And
us?
Am
I more beautiful
Across
the room...
A
blur of nakedness
Searching
for ater
And
a cigarette or two?
Can
you see
The
way I'm looking
At
you...?
Like
a laid out lovely...
Already
immortal
In
a moment of wanting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2.
Neil Meili of Calgary (and Austin)
The
More
(Lullaby
of Polarity)
The
more the more
you
are woman the more I am man
The
more the more
you
rest soft in my arms
the
stronger they become
The
more the more
I
am man
the
more you are woman
The
more strength in the shape of the spoon
the
more the more
even
in sleep
you
curl up and melt into sugar and good medicine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.
Mary Beth Gradziel of Red Rock, Tx.
Eat
not
so
fast of this banquet.
Take
time
to
chew the words,
roll
our tongues
around
each sweet
syllable
and
taste the flavors
nestled
tone
to
sound.
As
we share
our
luscious treasures,
let
us stroke
each
long-limbed thought
with
soft fingers
and
open ears.
There
is no hurry.
We
hold eternity
in
outstretched hands
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4.
Jon Gregory of Fort Worth
Indian
Summer
Drink
deep the fruitful cup
as
the light of early autumn wanes
For
this is the glory time of year.
The
midday of wisdom
before
the long, black night of despair.
Relish
this day like the bounty of harvest,
having
reaped golden grain from our months of toil.
Hunger
quelled, warm in the hearth,
caressed
in the arms of an old, familiar lover,
knowing
tath one day she will be gone.
Linger
long in the amber meadow
where
soothing winds lull youthful sense of dread.
Resplendent
in October sun, celebrate your triumph,
for
this day will never dawn again,
and
the deep, red coals will fade to gray forever.
©
1999 Jon Gregory
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
5.
Carl Dhiman of Lonon
Do
you feel safer when the cops shoot your neighbor?
Do
you feel at all?
This
city is strange, lost children in the big playground
look
to the skies; sirens howl and
mothers
zip babies back inside their jackets.
Everywhere
like nowhere else there is motion
The
city streets are paved with paper, and we exist;
consider
our next move on life's concrete checker board.
A
girl sighs, "oh, my... goodness," as
uncertain
pedestrians walkdon'twalkwalkdon'twalk...
street
peddlers peddle junk perfume
and
the stench of fresh garbage hits nostrils.
Everywhere
like nowhere else there is noise...
and
in the middle of a Barnes & Noble bookstore
we
are writing; surviving; resisting.
Do
you feel safer when the cops shoot your neighbor?
Do
you feel safer when the cops shoot your neighbor?
Do
you feel at all?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6.
August Kleinzahler, appearing at Barnes & Noble on Guadalupe,
Tuesday, April 27. Here is the title poem from his book.
Green
Sees Things In Waves
Green
first thing each day sees waves-
the
chair, armoire, overhead fixtures, you name it,
waves-which,
you might say, things really are,
but
Green just lies there awhile breathing
long
slow breaths, in and out, through his mouth
like
he was maybe seasick, until in an hour or so
the
waves simmer down and then the trails and colors
off
of things, that all quiets down as well and Green
starts
to think of washing up, breakfast even
with
everything still moving around, colors, trails,
and
sounds, from the street and plumbing next door,
vibrating-
of course you might say that's what
sound
really is, after all vibrations-but Green,
he's
not thinking physics at this stage, nuh-uh,
our
boy's only trying to get himself out of bed,
get
a grip, but sometimes, and this is the kicker,
another
party, shall we say, is in the room
with
Green, and Green knows this other party
and
they do not get along, which understates it
quite
a bit, quite a bit, and Green knows
that
this other cat is a hallucination, right,
but
these two have a routine that goes way back
and
Green starts hollering, throwing stuff
until
he's all shook up, whole day gone to hell,
bummer...
Anyhow,
the docs are having a look,
see
if they can't dream up a cocktail,
but
seems our boy ate quite a pile of acid one time,
clinical,
wow, enough juice for half a block-
go
go go, little Greenie-blew the wiring out
from
behind his headlights and now, no matter what,
can't
find the knob to turn off the show.
©
August Kleinzahler