five and dime

mama bought alice
at the five and dime
but couldn’t carry her
back home

she paused to catch
the ends of her hair
and ducked into
the back-alley shadows
to set up an ambush

looking for a way to lure
her oh-so-dull lover
into moving her
past third-base
but they were
both clueless

so she went back
to town and
bought the old book
with all the answers
and they studied it
together

chapbook

Just a reminder...

copies of That Sort of Thing and Idealists on the Funeral Train are still available here.

prone to wander

skeletal leaves
      fall down
              fall down
        gently bring yourself
            
  back and
         try again
            grab-bag of topsy-turvy
                               for lease
if you find your mind wandering

do you love my love
            bent and broken
you write the words of
                firm resolve
      maybe we’re
                         some fine dancin’
            scattered stars
     prone to wander

               carry me by
                             and i
stumble into
  supernatural impinged
                          upon natural
    body upon gravity pulled down
              fulfillment of prophecy
       writing with complete conviction
                        the mysteries of
  unwavering determination

Currently Reading...

Scott Pilgrim, Volumes 1-6
Flat Broke With Children

natural forces

we forced the matter
to a resolution
selecting one possibility
over any other
like we already had
all the answers

survival in visions
of hope aligning and
giving rise to a new world
of natural forces
and intelligent beings

produced in collisions
and the vibrational patterns
of extreme light radiating
deeper and deeper below
the level of climate control

fallen

she pierced a hole
in attraction and
caused it to
collapse again
in a collision
of dark matter
slowing down to
space-normal speed

too low for us to observe
at the early stage
of the universe
selecting one possibility
over any other
adapting to survive
by going
deeper and deeper
into the madhouse

church girls

church girls
whisper secrets
stitched together
on the edge
of plausibility
filling in the gaps
of unanswered
questions

wanting to
understand the
benefits of
knowing the
physical properties
of the standard model

something crazy
but incomplete
built on a
framework of
coarse ability
searching for
beauty and truth

surrender

the small flash of light
told me that he was correct
but I was still waiting
for the transformation
to take control
unable to surrender
to save the vessel
alarms start howling
might go berserk
and start shooting
into the vastness
of the dark
until it all starts
collapsing again

gracious like summer

good sister smears
incomplete shadows
against the endless landscape
gracious like summer
singing faintly and falling
on turned branches

leaves struggling in the
moment unnoticed when
familiar bodies stretched low
push against tense skin
healing rapidly for
the glory of a living prize

poetry at work

I work overnight shifts at a youth shelter. Sometimes in my down time in the middle of the night I write poetry on the walls in the dining room.

Wednesday night's poetry included: Claude McKay, Bob Perleman, Rodney Koeneke, and Ron Padgett.

An ecclectic, but fun, mix of poems.

these hands

gracious hands
bring in the
detached wanderer
carrying light through
the saffron memories
of a dripping sun
melted together
with the pageantry
of city and sky

longing stretches
down beside the
familiar pictures
of golden explosions
but nobody wants
to contemplate
the rumbling

ginger sky

dark nectar on
branches brings
scent tingling faintly
upon glazed rain
leaving shadows on
bottomless memories
wax picture colors
stain strange hands
singing in flickers
of tangerine flame
rising the moment
starlings clang
in the ginger sky

Featured Writer: Lillian Short

This is the first of many upcoming featured writer/artist posts. As Sweet Lozey continues to grow, we will be featuring experimental writing and art from many talented women. I am thrilled to present Lillian Short as the first featured writer. Though young in age, Lillian's artistic ability is already recognized within her community. Her passion is painting and drawing but she is a talented writer as well.

Two (short) poems by Lillian Short:

...

delicious starlings are
only red plums

...

heavily red is stretched
among fire trucks where
iceboxes carry green people
across the sky and
endless heads drown

...

morning stroll

Women in Small Press Article

Lynn Alexander writes a monthly column about women in small press for the Literary Mary Newsletter. The June column is about Sweet Lozey (and me). You can read the article here:
Literary Mary Article

Lynn is an impressive lady and someone that I greatly admire. She is involved with many literary projects, including editing Full of Crow. I was really excited when she asked to write an article about Lozey. To learn more about Lynn, click here.

there’s more to the story

girl is moving
at the speed of light
whirled violently
and changes direction

got me to thinking
so i pulled up a box
and wrenched another
peach off the tree

she stared limply at space
speeding toward her
and considered the
possibilities of existence

but this isn’t the real story
it was pitched off
into the distant past
to be stripped away

we couldn’t travel there
she begged me to tell her
the story until there was
nothing left but hunger

what he does, he does well

the slowdown creeps
in the flickering shadows
like the grey fading grin
of rip van winkle

he impetuously packs a
scribbled hurry-up letter in
a box of roman rockets
and slips into the dark

flicker

muscles convulse
the system is perplexed

overcome by the madness
of unrelenting quiet

shouting inequities
across the widening universe

fire crackles like
shattered alabaster doves

in the shadow of
faded celluloid memories

sleep comes easy
but ransacks the soul

interpretations

we discovered truth
late one night
though you might
not remember it

hastily dragged out
and hanged in
the courtyard before
it could be recorded

we were close then
interpreting the prophesies
quietly spoken by the
captain of the guard

his revelations were
profound even if
they were screwed up
from time to time

virtuous women

girl never trusted
the slow
             comfortable
rhythms of
         my schemes

            even when i invented
explanations
              for scandals
               and shifted blame
       to virtuous women

                  girl protected what
           she wanted with
             energy from the
    tips of
                   her toes

she intervened when
               peace was
        torn apart
            and struggled to put it
back together again