Poetry
• who’ll be the first - Rex
Butters
• Surf is up - shanna
moore
• When my mother loved me -
Hillary Kaye
• Meth pursuit, part 3
& 4 - John David West
• Forgiven
Freedom Sunset - Hal Bogotch
• New
World Ordure - John O’Kane
•
Eviction - Sharon Snow
who’ll be the
first
to try to sell the
spot
where he
dropped?
his flame
tipped
sunkist
dreadlocks
framed the positive vibration
grin
no
saint/thank gods
just trying to beat the
odds
sell some insense and stay
clean
“blessed!”
he’d
respond to “how’s it
going”
rebuilding the
life
he almost
lost
now lived one day at a
time
suddenly soulless suits and their
pandering political puppets
declared selling
insense and oils a crime
he tried to
jump
through the city’s arbitrary
hoops
dance to the changing
tune
subject to
unjustified
unwanted
unfair
regulation
doors shutting too
fast
the bottle
reopened
mounting
pressures
blew a small
vein
in his
brain
dead on the
boardwalk
denied livelihood by the
city
another gentle
soul
plowed
under
more greed machine
grease
even the jaded bitch whore
Venice
once a goddess/now merely a
celebrity
looks away in
shame
he’d say,
“Hey
Rex
saw your new
one
in the
Beachhead
Alright!”
this
time, Cecil
it’s about
you
but you’re not
here
to read
it
–Rex
Butters
-----------
SURF
IS UP
inhale
the
salty fetch...
while waiting for a
wave
the quiet
anticipation
turquoise
shanna
moore
------------
When
my mother loved me
great portions of my
body
were distributed to wild and carnivorous
animals
all small in
size
eating vigorously and with
passion
It was after watching my eyes being
devoured by a bug
that I starting questioning
what is a mother’s
love?
–Hillary
Kaye
------------
3.
Meth pursuit
In that
dark
room, mind
lit.
Eyes dart and black
holes wide, gnashed
teeth in lockjaw
smiles. Compelled
to hunt focus is
Razor-sharp. Victim
spied, but he has
other
goals.
4. Garbage bag finale
Fire, bowl and
tina.
Windows open
to my pretty garden
court yard.
My methological
world on view, I’m too
easily seen. Open
to those on three sides,
I’m a TV show,
a silent
movie.
my 4th wall exposed.
No curtain to
hide
scene. Improvise
as I must, shut out
the world with garbage
bag
blackness.
Plastic bag
covered
windows don’t reveal
what neighbors,
police
and audience might
see.
Scene ends with
me.
- John David
West
-----------
FORGIVEN
FREEDOM SUNSET
What can I say about
myself to the paper
jack hammer drill into
iceberg
go deep deep melt snowcone
glazing
rainbow
conspire
pull
pull saltwater daffy tableau
peel red
sweet onion layer
smack round flesh pay
pay
get on
gator
ride into sexual freedom
sunset
strip guilty part way down far
down
no glove love bouncing hayride
cart
grizzly black brown polar
hug
man woman monkey
trial
eve?s grapefruits press
adam?s sweaty hairy
chest
cajun snake in flooded swamp gone
global
naked island trade for glossy
beads
el mar
carib
melt chocolate
spill
rum
crack fleshy shellfish
all hands on off-shore
booty
gentle men face faith thou
saith
kneel in bayou pray for lace
panty
parish
brandy
riverboat sackcloth forgiveness
blackout come to
spin Henry Miller tropics thrill
wheel
grip and
grimace
grasp and feel
real
not much more to say daily press
hums
lullaby byline
five.
–Hal
Bogotch
-----------
New
World Ordure
By John O’Kane
From once fashionable resort to
retro-fashion-patch,
spectres of
truth-seekers scrap in
the shadows of
Cadillac,
drawn to throwaways in the
sea-colored containers
like tropisms on LSD,
Venice is becoming a furlough for the free
in deed,
exiting their multi-mil garrisons to
parade with
anorexic Italian Greyhounds and
pitbulimics with
Spencer’s genes down
Speedway,
dodging makeshift bedrolls and
welcoming
the LAPD blues.
------------
EVICTION
BY
Sharon Snow
The waiting lists are full
she said
No vacancies -- I keep
searching
for a warm place to
sleep
The evil Ellis Act evicted
me
It’s destroyed my
sanctuary
My sanity, my home - but not my
soul -
Tonight I will cover
myself
under a big soft blanket of
prayers
Sounds of the sea surround me
now
bringing peace and tranquility - for
awhile
At dawn I must rise, face
reality
No place to go - waiting list still
full
Corporate greed vs.
poverty
Affordable housing a mere
memory
Evictions cut to the
core
so many tears - so many
years
and so much pain
--
Ellis Act brings evil gain
-
I have no where to
go
The woman said, now she’s dead
-
The waiting lists were full!
Posted: Fri - September 1, 2006 at 06:01 PM