Author of The Heartwood Crown, The Crescent Stone, Good News for a Change, Sky Lantern and several other wonderful books!
Burning Out:We burned the instant coffeestared at fanbladeswhile the future failedlike our Gristedes furniture.Our world was a divewe leaned over the edge and threw upwe were sad, we had dandruffwe went bald too young.I wish we could have met upyou and I,trashy, in flightthin and brokewe could have been happy and dull.We could have burned out right.
Clothbound NicodemusTabletop trackerA worldwide explosion of sapphiresPtomaine verses,Scree of DH Lawrence’s brainA vertical trenchMagic whispers In the muse’s earEldritch cauldron seasoningStewpot of rotten logs,And fungal growing rhyme thick as thievesAfter a long forest rainCinnamonGhoulj_gulbranson@hotmail.com
The FlockThere they sat, flat on silent feet, unwittingly pastoral, stupidly sheep. And as I approached, not a fleece was flustered,only grass stubble chewed—what bland entertainment that must make.I settled along on shameless strides, slow and even,as proscribed-‘til a tingling-harsh collision thumped the back of my right side—harump!—and a step I skipped, smacked by a woolly thingthat could have been a sock, or a soft, hollow mitten,had it not been for the head, the brain behind those glaring eyes.I knew my fear,I held it out before me like a vest my mother had worn in battle,but would not put it on—‘til he struck again,left cheek this time, and I simply wandered on,past the others, toward the fence,dazed, to helplessly watch him pass- the brute,heavy with wool and haggis,standing fixed on a narrow path, from which he would not budge,would not be bullied or begged away.No, he will make his stocky way whichever way he please,will clobber any passing biped, who so easily sees him coming,hurtling toward her like a ridiculous stuffed toy.And she may laugh, but she cannot run, for fearof scattering panic over a quietclose-trimmed field.
Shattered -alissa leaseI cry aloud in the midst of my fearsTears filling my eyes as the moon disppearsBits of broken pieces are all that remainFragments of glass, shattered by painMy heart wrenched out at others amusementMy soul burns with memories of constant tormentLeft empty and bruised, our loyalty forsakenRespect spit upon and drown in aspirationIgnorant Fool! To percieve myself his noble prizeTainted dreams when purged by fire, reveal decietful liesSmeared in shameful ashes, with a stunned and vacant stareBelittled a whore, my honor stripped naked and bareRumors dance about while whispers tempt and teaseOh bittersweet revenge, as both mind and body concedeI curl up cold and desperate, heartache consuming meClutching the shards I thrust them deep and bleed my spirit free