Issue 41 – Linked Verse

Rengay



Old-Time Religion

clinging to faith
an outdoor nativity
in late winter rain

behind the steeple
a guns and ammo sign

guarding baby Jesus 
a metal chicken
with rusted wings

cracked pew
giving up
on the rapture 

two surnames 
in the whole cemetery

wrapped in kudzu
the old rugged cross
leans right

Terri L. French, USA
& Peggy Hale Bilbro, USA



Replacements

dental chair
the drill designer loves
Marathon Man

the faultless grip
of custom pliers

empty sockets . . .
robots perform
eye puff tests

deep learning
all the crevasses
mapped

a chin tuck turns into
rhinoplasty

facial recognition—
everything fades
to white

Richard L. Matta, USA 
& Lorraine A Padden, USA



Travel Insurance

the process
of getting a visa
morning haze

her maiden name
considered an alias

no space on
the multiple choice form
to explain why

still unclear . . .
removing her glasses
for her photo

her different colored eyes
could be a problem

misreading the signs
maybe I am
a robot

Angela Terry, USA
& Julie Schwerin, USA



Tan-Renga



sinking sun
casting dry shadows
across hunger stones

breeze lifts topsoil

single-sheet broadsides


petro c. k., USA
& Jerome Berglund, USA



majestic mood
yours becoming
ours     

whilst the booze

lasts


Jerome Berglund, USA
& Christina Chin, Malaysia



bath time
a paper sailboat crumples
in the tub

mom folds another

piece of junk mail


Christina Chin, Malaysia
& M. R. Defibaugh, USA



long night . . .
her screams restrained 
to the icu bed

the fall and rise

of Hannibal’s tongue


Amoolya Kamalnath, India
& Robert Kingston, UK



autumn noon—
a pelican’s beak full
of the backwaters

among parietal figures

at the Cosquer cave


Amoolya Kamalnath, India
& Robert Kingston, UK



Sequences



Ever Before

between fairy tales—
telling Grandma
what a voice she has

father’s words
the scrape of a butter knife
across burnt toast

old tree house
handing down his dream
to be a pilot

unlocked diary
his i’s all dotted 
with open hearts

Tonka truck
digging out 
her inner child

just past midnight
Cinderella and
her bunions

Edward Cody Huddleston, USA
& Terri L. French, US



late day blues  

d

g r o w i n g  o l 

m

m e m o r y  l a n 

l

w a i t i n g  r o o m 

n

g l o b a l  w a r m i n g  

u

f a i t h   m a t t e r s 

d

m o b i l e  d a t a  


u c k e t  l i s t 

LeRoy Gorman, Canada 



Middle Ages

a new lease on life vasectomy

draining the swamp my indiscretions

Sex Pistols the needle worn through

tempted a well-placed squeeze

half my age this fine vintage

last button opening the lily

Bryan Rickert, USA
& Peter Jastermsky, USA



Reality Show

Instagram insists 
leggings are pants
the Anthropocene arrives

exploitation
is the new black
Anthropocene constellations

Anthropocene moon
fussing over daycare for her 
goldendoodle

scheduling surgery
for his deviated septum
Anthropocene snow 

Anthropocene spring
a Bud Lite six-pack ring fascinates 
the hawksbill hatchling

finding another doctor
to misdiagnose her hypochondria
the Anthropocene deepens

marketing consultants
discuss different shapes of plastic
Anthropocene blossoms

you can’t burn
books that don’t exist
Anthropocene autumn

Anthropocene trillionaire
little hands get the most 
lithium ore

selling used haute couture
as a side hustle
Anthropocene economics

Icarus just shrugs
and lights a scented candle
Anthropocene sun 

Joshua St. Claire, USA




Split Sequences



From My Navel to the Cosmos

in my mind’s eye

lotus flower

base jumping

into the ether


the cliff-notes version

a constant

act of returning

prayer beads


of reality

grounding

the mountain

inside myself

Shloka Shankar, India
& rs, Middletown, Delaware, USA



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Issue 40 — Best of Issue / Senryu

Each new issue of Prune Juice features a best-of-issue senryu chosen by one of the co-editors.  

school bus

blowing an extra kiss

just in case

Helen Ogden, USA


Our selection for issue 40’s “Best of Issue” award was a unanimous one. Helen Ogden’s “school bus” deftly weaves a narrative that continues on long after we finish reading the poem. The opening lines draw us in with their innocence, depicting an almost mundane scene of a parent or guardian parting ways with a child for the day. Perhaps this is a young child who still clings to the safety of home and only reluctantly gets on that school bus. Or maybe they are on the cusp of the age at which they no longer desire the company of grownups, and these intimate moments are becoming precious few. Whatever the context of this interaction, our attention is caught by the at once enigmatic, chilling, and haunting third line. We are transported out of this space of innocence and into a space of fear. Fear that the content within the hours between this child leaving us and coming back home is beyond our visibility and control. There is a harrowing futility to the act of blowing that extra kiss—is it merely a salve for our own conscience? The ultimate power of this poem is that the motivation for this fear is unnamed; and it doesn’t need to be. It is, in fact, a stronger poem for this reason, as it allows for a universality in the experience. The hallmark of a brilliant poem is its invitation to multiple meanings upon reading and re-reading. Helen’s poem masterfully achieves this through the use of simple, everyday language, and is, therefore, a worthy recipient of this issue’s award.

Antoinette Cheung, Co-Editor
August, 2023




this struggle
for novelty—
flat moon

A.J. Anwar, Indonesia



mapleafallsosoon

Caroline Giles Banks, USA



stars on stars ever growing my boyhood

Rowan Beckett, USA



home 
is where
puppy mills

Jerome Berglund, USA



the living
go to purgatory
probate

Alanna C. Burke, USA


the squeak
of a marker running dry—
another protest

petro c. k., USA



thunderclap—
the soldier’s gaze
on a toothpick flag

our vapor trail . . .
the party clown 
takes off his tie

Aidan Castle, USA


driftwood . . .
after
all the sales

Ram Chandran, India


self-checkout
I almost say
you’re welcome

Mary Ann Conley, USA


A. 01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101

Shane Coppage, USA
(translate the binary code here)


interment I delete his number

daughter-in-law
casting nasturtiums
on the salad

Sue Courtney, New Zealand


cardiac consult—
on the office palm
a dead spider

black iris
the eulogy omits
my other life

Dan Curtis, Canada


AI 
waxing
eschatological

Pat Davis, USA


not enough words 
for the modern world 
grandpa’s patois

Marie Derley, Belgium


pillow talk—
my translation
of Genji’s Tale

Edward Dewar, Canada

erectile

dysfunction

such

hard

words


Keith Evetts, UK


between paragraphs 
about migrant camps
sweat pants ad

Bruce H. Feingold, USA


campfire songs
the dirty verses
uncorked

Mark Forrester, USA


twenty five years dead my mother sighs

Jenny Fraser, New Zealand


6th anniversary
more a tickle 
than an itch

Terri L. French, USA


teen breakup
the rapid staccato
of thumbs

Jay Friedenberg, USA


chalk dust
blown from my hand—
first crush

catch and release
my son’s grasp
of female anatomy

Lisa Gerlits, USA


war poem:
too long
too many adverbs

Mark Gilbert, UK


the stains
of my father’s love
beetroot salad

Abhisha Gulati, India


rubber chicken
but no one dares complain
charity dinner

Charles Harmon, USA

safety              her            new

scissors       brand        bangs


Kerry J. Heckman, USA


buzz bombs by another name plum blossoms

Ruth Holzer, USA


memory care
the ice cream truck
sounds—

Kimberly A. Horning, USA


summer love chef tests the tempura oil

lost between happiness & senior rates

Keiko Izawa, Japan


lurking
in the shadows
senryu

Roberta Beach Jacobson, USA



county fair
nearly enough beer
to enjoy the band

Richard Jordan, USA


hazy morning
the next generation’s 
unisex names

Govind Joshi, India



mass
a psalm recited
in valley girl

Nicholas Klacsanzky, USA


popcorn quilt
a doctor tries to outsmart
the cancer

Deborah P Kolodji, USA



cloud animals
reshaping the sky
for my son

Kimberly Kuchar, USA


far from home . . .
the whys
and the ‘causes

Natalia Kuznetsova, Russia


untold stories
the click of her needles
casting off

Kathryn Liebowitz, USA



he mows the lawn
on the shortest setting
divorce papers

walking my anger 
to the breakwater’s end—
blast grooves in granite

Kristen Lindquist, USA


last call
the umbrella I take
not the one I brought

Bob Lucky, Portugal


street healer says
his spell is approved
by the FDA

Roman Lyakhovetsky, Israel 


human being always the present continuous

Ruchita Madhok, India



wardrobe malfunction the pop eyes of toads

registry office
the only pen
spatters ink

Marietta McGregor, Australia



strawberry moon . . .
attacking the wildfire
with a garden hose

Rob McKinnon, Australia


fomo my sulky phone

Kati Mohr, Germany


nursery wing
so many named
not-a-boy

Anne Morrigan, Canada

old        age

ad


no longer prematurely gray

Laurie D. Morrissey, USA


school bus
blowing an extra kiss
just in case

Helen Ogden, USA


middle age
judging a book
by its font size

Debbie Olson, USA


waiting room 
nobody winning
at tic-tac-toe

never learning
the custodian’s name
false holly

John Pappas, USA


school library
the book on freedom
suddenly cool

Ganesh R., India


daughter’s laundry
pieces of I love you
in the lint trap

Bryan Rickert, USA


road trip
all the places 
I pee

Jenn Ryan-Jauregui, USA


an adopted child
at twenty one
an adopted child

Ann Schechter, USA



shucking corn—
her silk robe
drops to the floor

Bonnie J. Scherer, USA


sex talk
my kids ask
Siri

Rich Schilling, USA


express lane the cashier

finishes

his

story

Greg Schwartz, USA



open carry
she begins
to show

Julie Schwerin, USA


Halloween—
the same demons
as last year

Rob Scott, Australia



yellow mangoes
again I play
the psychiatrist

Richa Sharma, India


Semper Augustus
my nephews discuss
altcoins

Joshua St. Claire, USA


same linear rainbands that knocked on Woodrow Wilson’s neutrality

Patrick Sweeney, Japan


pink cliffs
our conversation edges 
into gender roles 

Carly Siegel Thorp, USA


waitress as pronoun

chairs onto tables every night the same song 

Joan Torres, USA


dandelions—
for the first time
she calls me dad

Kevin Valentine, USA


thrift store bridal gown for sale as is

Christine Wenk-Harrison, USA



drag queen ban from monarch to larval stage

Mike White, USA


fresh paint
the smell
of another cover-up

Tony Williams, UK


just like that time 
we didn’t need
the moon

his hands
a little rougher
testosterone shot

Genevieve Wynand, Canada 



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