Lovely Miss Autumn
A poem by Adrian Lacson
By • February 22, 2012
Lovely Miss Autumn,
A year has passed since I first slept with you.
In an afternoon park I’d lay me down
On virgin grounds beyond rough avenues
And …
Poetry
Essence of Old Kentucky
A poem by Virginia Houk
By • February 20, 2012
Heat waves rise
when I pull the bow.
White road dust swirling
around my fingers
I can smell the land,
the years,
the maker.
Moving up the scales,
mocking birds and rattlesnakes
hum …
Stars and Hearts
A poem by Adrian Lacson.
By • February 17, 2012
I sit on sand, ruffling with the wind;
I hear the hushes of every wave;
I feel crawling waters licking my toes;
I smell and savor the …
Birthday at the Dirty Dome
A poem by Jacob Sandler
By • February 3, 2012
Hello inebriated youth:
you have all forgotten your inhibitions
at home on the sticky table-top
next to the red cups and empty shots.
Now here you all are,
by …
If Music Were…
A poem by Adrian Lacson
By • January 27, 2012
If music were a doctor,
He would be relied by all
And of sadness a healer.
He can make them dance the lame,
Or even prolong your day,
But …
The Freefall
A poem by Adrian Lacson
By • January 20, 2012
Oh once did we rise when we walked the wall;
Oh those days when that wall fulfilled our wants!
We climbed those vertical heights
As we shook …
Do it while the soil is still cold, Because I can’t sleep when it’s warm.
A poem by Taylor LaPorte.By • January 13, 2012
Lay me on your chopping block
And begin to slice at me.
Do it fast,
Do it while I can still lick
The last
Drops of water
From my bloodless …
WOMAN:
By • January 2, 2012
Um
Your name
Still in my mouth
Singing
My collarbone feels you
Where you are not
The shadows
The shape of your
Absence
Haunts the air
Darkness
It’s an absence of
You know.
I was watching the …
The Colour of My Spots
By • December 26, 2011
Now, if you pitch your little tent along the broad highway
The board of Sanitation says, “Sorry, you can’t stay.”
“Come on, come on, get movin’,” …
To Hell With Your Designer Jeans
By • December 21, 2011
To hell with your designer jeans;
I give not one rat’s ass.
Nor do I care about those things
That for “high fashion” pass.
You may believe you’re …
