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VIEWER
by AJ Urquidi an ancient tv set rests at the park's dirt edge: void display confronting polychromatic playground production, innards resounding with mock buccaneer calls, summer mothers' yells diverted from handheld performances to blanch the caged static echo of one last dwindling sign-off. on a hump of weeds the set's face slants like the cocked mind of a curious spaniel, as though out here it's finally able to observe the unwinding scenes its screen created—impervious to bouncing strikes of young and foreign signals—able to watch in resignation its once-framed world wax digital. |
SLEEPY HOLLOW by Stephanie Lakos |
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ON CERTAINTY
by Jason Dean Arnold My phone lies to me, Tells me what it thinks I need to know now. Aggregated data on What I should buy, What I should see, Based on millions Of people like me; But, I don't believe it. It predicts the weather Or so it claims. Eleanor and I wait inside For the unpredicted rain To finally stop So she can ride her bike. She notifies me Of the movement Of the dark clouds And changes in light. Her updates shake The routine of age, A comfort in silence. We resign ourselves To a game of catch In the living room, Which makes her smile. I take a few photos With my lying phone As she wraps her arms Around the large green ball, Pulling it close. Her father's been dead Almost a week now. I wish the weather Would change, Just this once. Eventually, it will stop. But, for now, It's still raining outside. Inside, Eleanor is ready, Wearing purple shoes. |
SONOMA COAST by Jeanine Stevens |
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by Simon Perchik And though these stones all night come from the same fountain they still clear the sky for hillsides and what overflows they carry back as the distance that takes forever to dry —it must be raining inside where every stone you hold has slope to it, falls face up the way once there were two skies —that's right! two horizons two mornings and the sun that's left is still looking for the other though in the darkness you hear your arms folding —even without wings the Earth almost remembers growing huge lit and this endless rain has always depended on it, the rest is lost, calling out from your hand and even further off. |
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