HERE I SI'I‘ GUILTY

NEW SNOW
It was as it the day were the sky
reﬂected in a summer lake,
but more opaque and gray.
The snow made the land one field,
plain except for the trees
(mascara rubbed on the earth),
the hope
ot reclaiming something imagined
lost
until it sat upon the limbs
and was shaken from the clothesline
as the birds took Off,

ere I sit guilty
(I'm lying)
ith my innocence in the past
nd what do I see in the distance?
omething enigmatic
a, just another puzzle

I I stopped here
maybe I’d Iix somebody
ut they don't understand
hat you can’t hold
it all back anymore
ishlng wells and silver bells

on’t circulate anymore Alan Bensley

would still try to pick up the pieces.

Phil Morales A NUANCE TO LOVE

I
I would have you

but there are crushing certainties

which I would run into

THE FACTORY
Sitting through the wreckage,
, not quite meeting their standards,
warped, plastic pieces
products which came trom your hands
Ialling to the ﬂoor, a weakness and
the sudden loss or weight, unconscious
oi the growing sleep
in your hands
in your mind
they came at you
one after another
standing erect
some even had the power to
you know
wheels and belts and things
and the others
they were watching
now could they miss them?

There is nothing slight about this
There isnothing lightrabout this
I see a candle nicker ' ’

I really did

but now my eyes are closed

And, see, you didn’t even know
there was a nuance

Nobody's trying to be special
Nobody’s trying to play the poet
You can draw the line

And i won’t stop you

Phil Morales

Alan Bensley

One atternoon in April we made love.

That surely was no miracle, for we

liad touched betore in the purple hours of

Long nights, when shadow set our trembling Iree.

in candlelight, in starlight and in dark

We came to know each other, slowly grown
To beauty lrom our hesitating start,
Together, troni our mutual alone.

Yet with spontaneous joy at love sunlit,

An implosion ot still, paralyzed time,

Our knowledge opened iurther to admit

A union unatraid or its design

Etched bold in spectrum out across twilight,
Never again need our love hide in night.

Sherry Mayrent

on, i don’t have the air ot iinality
Tomorrow, when i wake, I will tind you there

PEANUT HARVEST

a tew white hairs

cling to the skull

ot the wrinkled women

and her sullen brown iace
Suddenly cracked

by yellow stained teeth

as I crossed sunebroken earth
[or rice

“The nelds were very hot today.”

Rob Rainer

I am no songeel deal in only words.

There is a limit to my wmg, I know.

I cannot tollow you; like some mute bird

I tlap my dreams and wish that I could go

Beyond myselt into your wondered realm.

All tantasy, all magic being yours,

I have only the bares! iale [0 tell,

OI What wholeness I am, and ever more

Of what I could become il I could sing

A mystery ot aching, it I knew

A song like yours, a paean to everything

Alive. I love the muted power or you.’ '
I am no song, but there is music here;
Just open up your heart and let me near.

Sherry Mayrent

billy beercan
by cal crow
“Crumb’s my God
--the Big L

,H

hilly knew he should never have taken a chance on that
burger stand, but jesus, that jumbo burger was a mighty
good looker, stooled amongst the tat roaches, billy
watched the Big p ilip the burger; in order to avoid the
counterman’s eyes, billy looked out the window. outside,
residents and others washed their feet in the puddles and
stared at the sun, which rained blisters on the soil and
their eyes in a most unusual tashion. billy was in
troubleeetields oi insects caked the sun. the truckers

ate, gesturing like grasshoppers and staring at the sun

or at billy; just behavior, no more random than usual,

but to billy it was an incomprehensible sea at resemblances
and variations the diner was ribbed with amnesia, let's
tace it, and it showed in billy's eyes: tever stirred in

the sources at his pupils, amber erupted in the staring

sun. yes iolks, it was looking real had until billy

popped that burger into his mouth suddenly, strength
tlowed into him trom unsuspected reserves; the burger was
doing the trick, how billy stood up to the truckers with
reckless courage; he knew that their puny behavior, a mere
quotient oi events, was nothing when opposed by the creviced
multiplicity ot amnesia-ejust another heliophobe with a
blistered brain, and man, those blisters are dynamite with

ketchup,

 

