Miser

June Miser Magazine out now.  They've been kind enough to publish a short story I've written entitled Eddie's Cigar Store.  Find a copy.  Check them out on Facebook.  Support what they do.

Avian Neurosis

Two house sparrows
on a third floor window ledge

look in at me, then
look at one another,

then back at me.
I become self conscious,

certain there was something
in that glance, some

knowing judgement
before they leapt to flight

into unbelievable blue
above the south side.



The Washington Building, where birds pass judgement.

The Odd Way of Memory.

I often cannot remember

what I was going to say,

like it's gotten away.

I find myself

lost in conversation,

temporarily

in daydream,

thinking perhaps

about the space

on our crooked front walk

where weed breaks concrete

with unmistakable beauty,

then the neighbor's wood gate 

squeaks before it slams

and I remember...

this morning as you slept,

you exhaled loudly.  I thought

it was a message.

Having driven an hour up the road, arriving at the conclusion that you and I aren't nearly as different as we think.

Their tulips bloom in flower beds
just like ours do, and spring
rain stands in oily pools
where cars once were.

In quiet neighborhoods,
much like ours, with fresh
cut lawns, men walk dogs
in early morning half-light
past the occasional home
with boarded-up windows.

Their children count the days
until summer, adults 'til the weekend
while the elderly count days
between visitors, and sometimes
one of them is lost too soon.

All of us suffering in small ways
under the excruciating beauty
of small towns in springtime.

We Are Rabbits

Three rabbits in our front yard.

One is so close I see his eyes move.
He is wary of my intentions.

In a world of unmistakable violence
he has a bite of lawn to eat.

Two ears twitch, turning toward
the most relevant information,

cats and cars, hysterical dogs.
His life turns on a blade of grass.

A dodging streak of white
who disappears into a garden

four doors down.

Miser Magazine

I've got 2 new poems in this cool art and lit zine. Pick up a copy of Miser Magazine at bookstores and music shops around Cleveland. Check them out on Facebook. Support what they do.

Nostradamus 1993

Under a bridge span in summer night
we pulled at cigarettes, and discussed
factories in the distance puffing
3rd shift smoke over Black River.

"Soon enough there'll be nobody
in those factories," you said.
The damp earth smelled vaguely
industrial. It still does.



photo by James Jablonski 3.2013