• Challenger – Hal Bogotch
  • Yes we can– Panos Douvos
  • The Speed of Thought – Mark Lipman
  • Untitled – RF Wagner, Jr.
  • Modern Times – Jim Smith
  • Woof Woof – John Davis
  • One Saturday Morning in Venice – – krista schwimmer

————

Challenger
Walls walls and doors
closing closing in
exaggerated sighing
holy soldier needs voucher
nothing nailed to gateposts
excessive drama, be gone
wish-fulfilling wonder
simmering stinking ecstasy
man can stand and die
woman solely fly
boy pitcher on mound
girl submerged in sound
rocket science to forefront
radar’s comeback
invisibility relativity infertility rust
cosmic particulate Heisenberg dust
ten infernal prisons
nine climatologists
eight war-torn years
seven experimental acorns
six shell-shocked skulls
five integrated circuits
four faded mug shots
three Bunsen burners
two isolation chambers
one banana peel
zero gravity
a thousand pardons.
–Hal Bogotch
Yes we can
Early gloominess of winter approaches crouching
to spring – grasp throat or ankle
which ever comes first
damp darkness covers all ground- scape
dampens cheer and glue-shuts every door
to any prospect of a reviving sun
bear-trap silence signals storm before the storm
looming shadow of repellent pseudo-leader
clamps down tight all breathing space
near decade of despair withers hope
transgressions a leaning tower of misbelief
eyes mirror body-language droop  yet
fortitude patience and optimism form ranks
covering the red the white and brown
a new guy leads a stride his horse – confidence
this knight and his shinning-mind as armor
now offers our password …
yes we can
– Panos Douvos

Challenger

Walls walls and doors
closing closing in
exaggerated sighing
holy soldier needs voucher
nothing nailed to gateposts
excessive drama, be gone
wish-fulfilling wonder
simmering stinking ecstasy

man can stand and die
woman solely fly

boy pitcher on mound
girl submerged in sound

rocket science to forefront
radar’s comeback

invisibility relativity infertility rust
cosmic particulate Heisenberg dust

ten infernal prisons
nine climatologists
eight war-torn years
seven experimental acorns
six shell-shocked skulls
five integrated circuits
four   faded mug shots
three Bunsen burners
two isolation chambers
one banana peel
zero gravity
a thousand pardons.

–Hal Bogotch

————

Yes we can

Early gloominess of winter approaches crouching
to spring – grasp throat or ankle
which ever comes first
damp darkness covers all ground- scape
dampens cheer and glue-shuts every door
to any prospect of a reviving sun
bear-trap silence signals storm before the storm
looming shadow of repellent pseudo-leader
clamps down tight all breathing space
near decade of despair withers hope
transgressions a leaning tower of misbelief
eyes mirror body-language droop  yet
fortitude patience and optimism form ranks
covering the red the white and brown
a new guy leads a stride his horse – confidence
this knight and his shinning-mind as armor
now offers our password …
yes we can
– Panos Douvos

————

The Speed of Thought

By Mark Lipman

If velocity (v) equals distance (d) over time (t), such that v = d/t ;

and we assume that d = any positive integer (x), as any two points

have a calculable distance between them ; and if we further assume

that t = 0 (zero) , because all thought is spontaneous and therefore

takes up no space in time ; we would then be left with the equation

of : v = x/0 = ? (infinity). Therefore the velocity of thought (T) is

infinite. If the velocity, or the speed, of thought is infinite, then it is also

instantaneous. If the speed of thought is instantaneous, then the

amount of time (t) that would be required to travel any given distance

at the speed of thought would therefore also be 0 (zero). And if that

be the case, then let it be known that right now, I’m thinking of you.

———–

The overcast is artifice, man-made,/ because the shoreline needs a little shade./ The roasting coals have eased their fiery grip/ within the ocean’s reach, and drop by drop/ the mist transforms to dew and layers long,/ recalling last night’s nightingale; his song./ As time and space are precious, at this end,/ between two cosm’s, greetings do we send,/ to distant strings and quasars, there among/ the farthest, most extreme. Tidings we bring,/ in hopes this, our blest vantage, will not stop/ providing clues and evidence. What lip/ could classify, or clarify, or grade?/ Thank God I have this pen. I have it made.

–RF Wagner, Jr.

————

Modern Times

By Jim Smith

Let’s fire your ass.
Let’s kick you out on the street.
We’ll charge for every drop of water
And make fresh air a treat.
Let’s raise all the prices
and lower your pay.
Hey buddy, the cost-of-living
has just priced you out of the market.
It’s nothing personal
That’s how we do it today.
Let’s give the banks billions
And for you, a kick in the pants.
Don’t forget, this mess all started
because you wanted a home of your own.
So don’t give us crap about Wall Street.
We know the alley where you sleep.
Oh, and you’re gonna get a new health plan
You’ll stop complaining when you try our new
Pandemic.
Please don’t tell us things are bad.
It’s only 2009. Just you wait till next year.

————

Woof Woof

By John Davis

The dogs on my hill bark,
a signal crossing,
the continents and seas,
perhaps signaling
deep space,
reflecting off
comets
reaching points
unknown
to other demensions
then returning home to
their masters ears as a
reflection of
Bow Wow

———–

One Saturday Morning in Venice

Well, i woke up
one Saturday morning
some time ago, tired
from not sleeping.
In fact, my husband & i had
simultaneously
awoken from nightmares –
his about Clint Eastwood
& trying not to be killed –
mine about the end
of the world & movie stars
being alien star seeds
for new civilizations.
Anyway, i meandered
to the front porch
to find half the block
taped off by police.
We had heard nothing.
My neighbor
(of the screaming orgasms)
nosing around
with her Press Badge
heard a rumor that a woman
had been stabbed to death
by her boyfriend
who a week ago
had been arrested for domestic
violence. The sun was bright
& cheerful & there was
no music playing
in the background. Only people
murmuring & chatting loudly
on cell phones. By 4 pm
the coroner had arrived.
i found myself wanting
to see the body brought out.
Still, more rumors of domestic violence
& her throat being slit.
Urban myth, my husband said
later. i left for work
reluctantly, leaving my husband
with my camera.
When the coroner finally
wheeled out, no pictures were allowed.
Turns out, she died
mysteriously, accidentally
her boyfriend safely
locked away. She had
a strange bump on her head
probably from falling
after a drunken bout.
22 years old, i heard.
Oddly, i am relieved
it was not a stabbing
despite the fact
that the coroner still
carried away a young body
& that dead is dead
no matter which way
i turn my head around it.
We are strange creatures
after all, compelled
to witness the unexpected
in search of something
as elusive as alien star seeds.
So, i guess my dream
was right after all.
Someone’s world
came to an end last night
witnessed only by
the basement walls
where she resided alone.

– krista schwimmer

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