by: Paula Mejia
Dayvan Cowboy breathes
A papaya horizon
The west far from won
There, desert flower
You’ve heard Tomorrow’s Harvest
Did your petals fall?
Pete Standing Alone
Smiles crumble at his toes
Reverent in defeat
Standing at the edge, it all
Seems so very small.
Energy Warning.
He walks in, Sherbert Head
All sun and slight suspicion
Where hasnt he been?
Innocent daylight
We heard hums; a Dawn Chorus
Past the broken stairs
Through hazy eyelids,
A Moment of Clarity
Hits just when you leave
Whispers tickle ears
Meet at the Diving Station
Well free-fall from vines
The sky is battered
Puddles trace the spaces you left
Today is June 9th.
by: Adam Kivel
Attached and eyes wide
Light mist on Sunday sidewalk
“1969”
Can’t quite make it out
What’s the frequency, Leslie?
Deep “Dandelion”
Swift and wind-dark night,
Sky shot through with rippling smoke,
Can’t “Slow This Bird Down”
Those raw, bright talons
It’s “An Eagle In Your Mind”
And predatory
Oh, that “Sixtyten”
Believe me when I tell you
It’s a weird number
Listen to whispers
They still watch the pianos
Down “In The Annexe”
You, “Aquarius”
Left on an empty current
The bed is cooling
Last night, sleeping late
“I Saw Drones” float by slowly
Each second an hour
I “Reach For The Dead”
Arms fading at the elbows
And how they reach back
