The Veil

The desert in June. It bedevils me:
an approaching paper cut. A singing stone.
Dry riverbed where quotation marks
lie down to dry. Where I escape.
Hot breeze on the back of my neck,
dogjaw dropping from the sky.
The van of paper cuts heaving.

the hour of slumber
mumbling the nights
of great proportion

Keith Polette

The Veil

3 Gembun

a possum with every purchase

catching the light
the golden seal
on my English degree

Kelly Sauvage/ Agnes Eva Savich

the oak’s creaky voice

thunderclap
not an owl feather
left of fargo

Agnes Eva Savich / Kelly Sauvage

Was that a bird or three chipmunks in a trench coat?

time warp
the gnarled hand
of her rolex

Agnes Eva Savich / Kelly Sauvage

3 Gembun

Song of the Vanara*

While memory still proffers
While faded parchments still offer hints
As old laments still haunt the hallows
Each twilight slowly fading
Hear my song and know
That I am in you

I hid in Himalayan heights
Emerged from the depths
Lingered in jungle shadows
Passed from darkness into light
I am in you

As histories converge
I, too, am part of everything
Not as wild as you thought
Bards wove me into melody
You joined me in cosmic harmony
See me again

I hid in Himalayan heights
Emerged from the depths
Lingered in jungle shadows
Passed from darkness into light
I played my part
I am in you

rawhide silhouette
Sirius burning down
the wolf’s howl

*The “monkey people” of Hindu mythology

Anna Cates

Song of the Vanara*

CARS

Martin had a discussion about cars with a friend the other day. It seems Martin’s in the luxury bracket with his Audi A6. People are variously aghast, outraged or envious.

– How can you afford it?

The fact of the matter is, Martin’s car has an 06 registration making it sixteen years old. He bought it for two thousand euros and spent another thousand or so on repairs.

– Why don’t you buy a smaller car? Cheaper tax and insurance! There’s a fellah down in Eastwall who sells Japanese imports. You could buy a Honda Jazz or a Nissan Micra. Great cars!

– I wouldn’t be found dead in one. Old dears’ cars!

– I bought one.

– Sorry, I don’t mean to offend.

– You should be more down to earth, Martin.

– Funny, I could never achieve that.

– What???

a full moon
in the winter sky –
black ice

Gerry McDonell

CARS

Starlet

You pirouette wordplay, monologue metaphors, cha-cha verses, tango rhymes. Maker of pride in your mother’s eyes, you hog the spotlight.

path to stardom
the sinuous detours
of stepping stones

Jackie Chou

Starlet

The Poet

You ping-pong your lullabied charm into my life. Each thought you catharsis a blow to my psyche. You cross stitch, embroider your ideologies, your threads too intricate to undo.

writer’s block
my brain a dark canvas
of wordless thoughts

Jackie Chou

The Poet