Irreantum He stood upon the shore, he watched the rolling grey, and he called it Irreantum, Irreantum Irreae. It lapped in swaths, in currents. It peppered cold with spray, Thralling him and calling, Irreantum Irreae. Far off, the cold horizon surrendered first her ray, while all the time re-echoed Irreantum Irreae. ... Continue Reading →
Tick-less Inaudible clacking of clavier keys. Inarticulate tapping of talons on eves. Chattering leaves, grey in the gutter. A battery wilts while watch hands sputter. Jostling toothpicks in kitchenette drawers— I hear them all. The universe snores. —M.M.
My math brain fell apart again and now I can’t be sure, whether nine is more than ten ‘cause nine is spelled with four, and ten is spelled with three, and three is spelled with five, and five is spelled with four again, which shows how I arrive at thinking nine’s the same as five,... Continue Reading →
Will You Still Kiss Me? I’m sorry. I should have realized by the color of the stripes and the softness of the bristles that it was your toothbrush. -M.M. image by iStock
The newspaper said he died yesterday. He was at home in bed. It said he passed away in his sleep, but I bet if you’d have asked him, he’d have said he passed away in a dream and woke up the better for it. The reporter didn’t mention it, but I heard they found a... Continue Reading →
a day in the life of a poetry-hiring professional
You can’t have this poem. I called it first. Shotgun. No do-overs. Can’t be reversed. It’s mine—finders keepers. It’s mine—pinky swear. It’s mine—losers weepers. Sorry. Life isn’t fair. I thought it first. I went and picked it. You sure you still want it? That’s why I licked it. -M.M.
The apple tree and me. The two of us: me, beneath the tree but not in the shade; the tree, beneath the sun but not in the light. Clouds over me and the apple tree, which makes three: the clouds, the apple tree, and me. Or four—if you count the sun. But really,... Continue Reading →
Pisa The village people knew it was not a matter of if, but a matter of when, the tower would fall, its wind-bleached columns buckling at the knees under the crushing weight of its lofty belfry, which looked out over the Piazza dei Miracoli —the square of miracles. Having stood in sturdy silence for... Continue Reading →
