Now That I Desire
by Michael Lee Johnson
Now that I desire to be close to you
like two occupants sharing a twin bed
sensing the warmth of sweating shoulders,
hungering for your flesh like a wild wolf
leaning over an empty carcass,
you’re off searching unexplored cliffs,
climbing dangerous mountain tops,
capturing bumblebees in broken beer bottles for biology class,
pleasing plants, parachuting from clouds for fun.
In shadows, you’re closer to life, nonsense,
a princess of absurdity, a collector
of dreams and silent sounds.
In clouds, you build your own fantasy.
Share it with select celebrities.
But till this captive discovers a cure for caring,
a way of rescuing insatiable insanity,
or lives long enough to be patient in longing for you—
you must be vigilant,
for with time, snow will surely
blanket this warm desire.Â
Private Eden
by Joan Mazza
A fall of water over rocks,
its sound and spray, running cool,
where it never clogs or clouds.
A phoebe swoops down
to catch an insect for her chicks.
Garden of shady arbors, vegetable rows,
and flowerbeds of foxglove, blue iris,
wild purple vetch. You want
to lie down, cradled in this hammock,
barely swinging. Safe harbor.
Narrow paths into a darkening wood.
Benches and hanging chairs
surprise along the way, birdsong
the only music. Ferns, mosses, lichens,
Indian pipe, one box turtle.
A cabin with a kettle waits. A teapot—
hand-painted with a matching cup
and silver spoon. Honey, lemon,
and the drone of bees in the eaves.
Chair in the open porch.
You whistle: three notes in one pitch.
A titmouse replies. Pungent scent of fungi.
In a casino somewhere far away, bells ring,
lights blink. You’ve hit the jackpot.
You’re rich beyond counting.Â
One Dollar and Eighty-Seven Cents, Sixty Cents of It in Pennies
by Alex M. Frankel
What will my publicistÂ
Have to work withÂ
No one upvotes me Â
On Twitter or RedditÂ
I sent my book to ten friendsÂ
Two thanked meÂ
One opened itÂ
None praised itÂ
Almost got killed four times today aloneÂ
Lost control twiceÂ
When the gas pedal stuckÂ
Then the Uber lady while outwardly acting graciousÂ
Did seventy mph on side streetsÂ
And on the Harbor Freeway at rush hourÂ
She tore hell for leather through traffic Â
My dog gets over a thousand likesÂ
The book I spent thirty years writing gets zero Â
My neighbors left their food out for meÂ
In a crumpled paper bagÂ
two bottles of Dos Equis for a teetotalerÂ
three potatoes a few strawberriesÂ
two heads of lettuceÂ
Thirteen years and they’ve never asked my nameÂ
Which just becomes more awkwardÂ
Every year that goes byÂ
Hi neighborÂ
Leaving for HawaiiÂ
Thought of youÂ
The MaguiresÂ
Dear Lord what will the publicistÂ
Have to work withÂ
Lonely Dark
by Sharon LOpez Mooney
his voice surrounds me in a fog
of interrupted sleep
with hot longing and fragility
reaching through virtual miles
to touch me
we each on the other side
of an elusive border
that flexes and teases
into believing
on certain Tuesdays and Sundays
something is possible for us
has to be
must be possible
while on alternating Fridays and Mondays
a concrete wall appears
painted to reveal the end of everything
the beginning of forever
maybe a solitary heaven,
but alas a solo future stretches itself
out onto a broad empty horizon
i stand knee deep in sea water
nuzzling the shoreline of my burning hunger
cling to desert scrub securing me
he sits on upholstery
surrounded by metal and glass
millions of voices, traffic lights flashing control
creating limits to his dreams
the tacit expanse holding us apart
is the barren wild we crossed naked
without assistance nor protection
all this memory of possibility, of love
i again hear in the opening lines
of his late night call
aching into the dark of my night,
what’s up moons?Â
Laughing Letters
by Peter Mladinic
I wrote a letter explaining the unexplainable.
It got trashed. So, to write A a letter telling
how I feel, put it in an envelope and mail it
to her, I wonder what good that would do.
Dear A, when I first saw you I knew you were
pretty; then, I didn’t see you for a long time.
Then, next I saw you I knew you’re the most
beautiful person in the world. I love you.
One-sided love isn’t love. I’m almost twice
your age, I live with someone, I loved you
from the moment I saw you, I think of you
night and day, I love everything about you:
how you sound, how you look, how you walk.
Other women, maybe one, a prettier face
another a firmer body, they are not you,
the most beautiful woman in the world.
No one made me love you; that’s my choice.
We can help who we love and who we don’t.
But can we help what or who or where we
find beauty? I find beauty in you, a wealth
of beauty. Your smile lovelier than others,
and your voice, your hips, your neck, your
shoulders, your hair pulled up, your face.
From head to toe, all of you. Heaven
would be to sit under a tree and kiss you.
To be part of your life, not just at the edge
but in the heart of you would be amazing.
I live with someone, I’m twice your age,
almost. I want to be with you night and day.
I can see this letter not even being opened,
or read and thrown away. So what if A
doesn’t love me. That’s nothing compared
to a debilitating illness or an accident
leaves a person paralyzed. It’s nothing
compared to earthquake, fire and flood,
unable to pay for electricity, or a person’s
finding themselves out in the street. A’s
not loving me, not even wanting to talk
is nothing compared to those things. Still
my loving her is something, my loving A.
Lonely Dark
by Sharon LOpez Mooney
my legs stand against the sky
my feet make their way through mountain peaks
i throw handfuls of stars into the heavens
i massage the heart beat of the earth
with the rhythm of my walk
i am strong
i pleasure at my image in the ocean
i shawl my shoulders with clouds
cover my hips with rain storms
the sun freckles my back
and i shadow the mushroom and fern
i am in the middle of life
neither new nor finished
the color rises in my cheeks with the sun
my skin is smooth across firm muscles
my eyes are mountain ponds
clear and open
my voice is heard in the call of the eagle
i am serpentine
i stand steady with myself