Name: Michele McDannold
Date registered: June 28, 2011
Jabber / Google Talk: Admin
Apr 21
THE ROOSTER (for Brian F) Not a dry eye in the house when the story takes a twist This isn’t a sad song, merely a celebration of the rooster Beyond all the bluster, this magnificent bastard bore a heart of chrome He held himself to the mirror and felt comfortable with his reflection There’s no …
Apr 20
EDDIE HAD TO perform all these community service duties before they would let him off probation after burning down the Homes for Disabled Kids. They had him judging the talent contest at Youthvale Community Center now, and that was one of the band names on the list they gave him, Albinos Born Today. They had …
Apr 19
The first bit of Trump’s second term as a dream after a spicy late night snack with a glass of milk. I’m an adult, I’m back in the home I grew up in. The place that doesn’t exist anymore and everyone remembers differently. Outside the yard is overgrown and filled with signs, written insults directed …
Apr 18
Exile, Dystopia, etc. Latest reports seem to say I’m out of control, But I’m not even out of bed, Could it be a concern with what I’m saying To myself, by myself? But I can’t believe these walls are really that thin, Or my indoor voice is really that loud Maybe they’re hearing the mattress …
Apr 18
Breaking Free I moved across the country to leave you behind, To break free of your bullshit, And I’ve never felt better. In the quiet of my new life, I’m reclaiming everything I lost and had not found, Every breath unburdened by your darkness. But if our paths cross again, If you somehow find your …
Apr 17
Ex-Lovers and Kittens #1 it’s another Sunday in January the devil is beating his wife rain falls on sunny bricks I am still drunk from last night the hangover is for now, postponed as I wander half-awake questioning introspection the earth is for now washed clean in dull grey-green Diebenkorn shades the eaves are filled …
Apr 16
This is the Path that Leads to Hell We wrap ourselves in a death spiral. The water cycle is off track, depths of God’s wrath part clouds, cough chariot dust down his mountains. I see into you. We can’t unscrew ourselves after all these afternoons we twist vines, spin satellites around planets around lost tea …
Apr 15
Splitting Heirs It occurs to me, probably more often than it should, that I have yet to see my twenty-two-year-old son in the company of a female. His life is his own, of course, to do with as he sees fit, but I see a lot of me in a lot of him. So, why …
Apr 14
Wayne Mason is a writer and sound artist from central Florida USA. He is the author of several chapbooks of poetry and experimental prose. A product of his working class surroundings, Mason is as influenced by machines and industrial landscapes as much as he is the cut-up method and deconstruction. He has used these as …
Apr 13
THE LAST REAL POET The last real poet Sits alone by himself Somewhere in a cabin In Upstate NY Around the age of 95 Still alive But they all forgot about him Years Ago The prizes The many lives many Loves he had once His memory fades From time to time Unsure if …
