Tomorrow Night, And The Night After That By Trish Saunders

I hear the band warming up. 

A ‘40s jazz tune is what we need right now.

Think of the bars and cafes we loved,

friends who stood us a drink—

surely some are still living, somewhere.

For every despot, 

there must be thousands 

of kind-faced nurses

 waiting in tents  

bandages in hand, 

and a mother will kiss

every child’s bloodied knee. 

Listen to that wind 

trying to find a way in here.

Anticipatory anxiety, it's called. 

Your fingers give mine a squeeze.  

I'll take that for reassurance, 

for calm just before.

Strange, how the street outside has gone quiet.

Want more tonic in your cocktail?

Raise your hand, the flower-sellers

will approach, a smile at the ready. 

Trish Saunders lives in Seattle, formerly Honolulu, formerly Snohomish, a small town on a big river in Washington state. Her poems are published or forthcoming in Right Hand Pointing, Off The Coast, The Rye Whiskey Review, Medusa’s Kitchen, Open Arts, and the late, lamented Fat Damsel Press. 

Sound Bites By Susan Isla Tepper

Who are we, 

all of us— who

gaze across oceans

and vast desert lands

that pop up 

on the constant news

Who are we 

to cast aspersions,

wave flags and signs

screaming our opinions 

while never inhabiting

those places—

Comfortable 

in our elected Chambers,

drinking wine on the deck

with friends while debating 

the cost of lives vs lives

Who the hell are we

— never shelled or tortured.

We are billions of sound bites

lost to the moment.

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty year writer in all genres. Her stage play "Crooked Heart" will be featured in Origin Theatre Company 'May Play Festival', NYC.

Nice Shot, Jimmy By John Doyle

1975

Janus stayed a long long year down by Marseilles,

his sunlight surged on nubile sirens playing volleyball sea-side,

his Id painted piece by piece that side-street Hades, grey, his choice of visage,

most fires choose the latter for their tryst,

the filth oozing on the former, avoiding earthly judgment;

it was here I heard them say "Nice shot Jimmy", 

Monsieur Charnier drowning in sanguine penance,

Marseilles' face turned no brighter that day, 

no freer of its boiled-egg acne, its mud-veined mysteries -

"Nice shot, Jimmy" they said back home, 

his lone and single face taken suddenly by a shade of brittle stone

Half man, half creature of very odd habit, John Doyle dabbles in poetry when other forms of alchemy and whatnot just don't meet his creative needs. From County Kildare in Ireland, he is (let's just politely say) closer to 50 than 21.

Review Of Zero Evidence Of Life By Tracey Sivek

 

To pen any book is a daunting process in itself as we, as artists, question everything, struggling to create something that stands out while also bleeding our truths only to have them laid bare for others to criticize. 

It is said that looking at our past work and deciding to revise it is a task I do not envy any writer attempting to do.

That said, in Zero Evidence of Life author Tracey Sivek has not only attempted to do this but masterfully outdone herself in what I viewed as an already solid book of poetry.

These writings take you on a dark journey that doesn't stray from laying every poem bare yet in this revision there are also hints of humor laced in these lines such is the case in the prose-esque write Street Love:

I yelled.

“I like you better high.”

You yelled back.

“So do I.”

As that is my case in point this book has a great contrast. It's not your typical bleeding heart scenester poetry, this is work that pushes the author and the reader as well.

With further examples in the exquisite poem My Empty:

“My empty comes from a place of high yield and low resolution.

A sacred place where one wish of a hello lands on a thousand screaming goodbyes.”

This is a masterfully crafted book in all senses of the word for people looking for something darker that still maintains soul without compromising in an attempt to pander to a manufactured certain style to bore someone half to death at some open mic.

This is a book that demands to be read alone and savored in its beauty and dedication to its craft. I have known the author for many years and I have to say I am blown away by her edge with continued progression and refinement.

As I said before I do not envy anyone attempting to revise a past project but in many senses this feels like a completely new book altogether.

And it only makes me look forward to reading more work from this author.

If you want something dark and a hundred percent real this is the book for you. I could not recommend this book more.

Zero Evidence Of Life is an exquisite masterwork from an author whose voice has only just begun to demonstrate her truly best work.

This book will not disappoint I promise you that!

John Patrick Robbins, editor-in-chief of The Rye Whiskey Review.

https://www.lulu.com/shop/tracey-sivek/zero-evidence-of-life/paperback/product-22836091.html?page=1&pageSize=4

Come morning By Susan Isla Tepper

will you remember me

or will you dress quickly,

Grab the garbage bag

for the hall chute, 

brush my cheek

with lips that were 

so fierce

I thought for sure

come morning 

they’d be deformed.

 

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty year writer in all genres. Her stage play "Crooked Heart" will be featured in Origin Theatre Company 'May Play Festival', NYC.