Issue 37 – Sequences

Sequences

the almost vacation

whispering a come on sleep app

pillow talk exchanging last words

weighted blanket a late winter snow

escape room extending our stay

daydreaming the caress of a narrative

blue hour a tug of sweet light

Lorraine A Padden, USA & Peter Jastermsky, USA

tying Iona

a hand’s width too slow
his empty sandals
waiting for the splash

raindrops
on magnolia
she says he’s gone

tears on the doorstep
another mother
wrings her hands

weeping birch
some truths
are better hidden

knots
in her school shoes
trying to untangle this

storm rages
in my hip flask pocket
Gandhi’s autobiography

Iona––
tying our lives
to a driftwood prayer tree

Tim Roberts, New Zealand


Split Sequences

Fairground Games

July heat

melting

as he takes the reins

at the horse pull

the cotton candy

tilt-a-whirl

centrifugal force

draws her near

on my tongue

eyeing the next car

the roller coaster

starts with a jolt

Bryan Rickert, USA & Kat Lehmann, USA

Where the Flowers go

discipline

licked into shape

the sergeant’s barked command:

as you were

the only way

after

the passing-out parade

passing out

to make men of them

surviving

first contact with the enemy

wedding plans

Keith Evetts, United Kingdom

New World Martini

stirred and shaken

special order . . .

add two or four olives

to Mr. Putin’s drink

preparing my head

guided meditation

upon the sunroof

plinks and plinks

for world news

one more day

the planet revolves

around a tyrant

Richard L. Matta, USA

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Issue 35 – Rengay & Split Sequence



Rengay

Deep Storage

in an old cigar box
three generations
of buttons

keys just in case

of a lock

one year gone
adding his tools
to my box

found letter

the steamy rumor

that no longer matters

the hand-me-down
cat’s eye marble

wrapped around

an aperitif glass

the war is over

Bryan Rickert, USA & Kat Lehmann, USA

Back to Normal

traffic congestion
finding no space
to reflect

crossroad winds

never coming back

display window
all the mannequins
with masks

city drifter

the close of a song

from an upstairs window

sidewalk flowers
tracing the past

intersection

between then and now

dust and ash

Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan & John Hawkhead, United Kingdom

All Fingers and Thumbs

second date
her lipstick
stuck in the tube

borrowing a dress

that almost fits

bitten down nails . . .
the pantyhose
scagged

strappy heels––

three steps

before her ankle twists

a wet patch
where the roll-on missed

his text . . .

staying in

mustard-stained sweats

Lew Watts, USA & Tanya McDonald, USA


Split Sequence

How the Wind Moves

escalation

whistling kettle

no way left to hide

the truth

on the fire escape

knock on the door

our neighbor says she hears
every word

loud coos of pigeons

unclipped wings

the freedom to be
myself

GRIX, USA & Christine L. Villa, USA

High Desert Blues

homestead hardware

hollow core

a door hangs on

by its good hinge

the last bounce

desert trampoline

a truck tire

gives only so much

of rusted bedsprings

hipster makeover

curating lost dreams

as their own

Peter Jastermsky, USA

To Be or Not to Be

suicide hotline

we tell each other

one more lie

bruised moon

the same platitudes

I don’t know why

I keep trying

shallow sunrise

as yesterday

dying light

will anyone catch

the falling kite

Susan Burch, USA & Vandana Parashar, India

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