Irreantum

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 →

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Tick-less — Poem

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.

I Call this Poem!

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.  

Pisa

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 →

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