My poem "Laying Out a Yellow Dress the Night Before First Grade" has been accepted for publication in the brand-new Pitbull magazine. As one of the journals that accepted a poem of mine went under before printing that issue, and the other never seemed to go to press, I'm glad, but skeptical. It's nice that it's been accepted. We'll see if anything comes of it.
photograph copyright Vasilyeva Ekaterina
The cricket in the lavender
doesn't ever seem to sleep.
All night he chatters, and next morning
he's still got plenty to say. I don't know
how long crickets live, but surely
last night was at least one year of his life.
What could be so interesting,
so complicated that it takes
a whole year to tell?
I sit in the crabgrass. I've got time.
photograph by Molly Wizenberg
Come to me in the autumn.
Give me the summer
to shed this hateful fruit.
Surely, in some season,
you have watered your own roots
Yamamoto Baiitsu (1783-1856) was an artist who became obsessed with painting plum trees.
photograph by designedly kristi
After a long day of waiting
on standby in San Antonio,
I win a window seat. I sit.
The aluminum cradle rocks
as baggage is hefted
and temporarily dropped. More delays,
sings the pilot in the speakers.
Thunderstorms over Atlanta.
Eventually we leave.
The heatsticky clouds
are black potholes in the air.
Gold lightning laces dark earth
to dark sky. My world
Gravity, you greedy girl,
give me a few more minutes.
I will be yours again
before this storm
photograph by Marko Tarvainen
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