MP

Month: June, 2011

“Dingle, Ireland,” Donal Mahoney

The bathroom carpet,
wall to wall, is blue,
the lightest blue,
to complement
the bowl and ceiling.

Apropos the moment:
I bend the waist
and heave the gristle
from last evening’s steak.

Tomorrow I shall row again
to see those ancient men
in caps and coveralls
stand like statues
while they talk
and tap gold embers
from clay pipes
forever glowing. Click here to finish Donal’s poem.

“Skin’s Skin,” Jack Bristow

      “Listen. I’m going to go dance, if that’s alright with you. You aren’t comfortable with it, that’s okay. I’ll sit here with you.”
      “Go have some fun. That’s why you came here, right?”
     Lou play-punched his best friend and coworker Carl Strothers in the arm. Carl, the only hetro of the two, probably the only hetro in the entire club had winced in pain. “Sorry,” Lou grinned, as he stood up and walked onto the dance floor, then strutting, waltzing. The rave music grew louder, the strobelights flashed with gusto as Louis Childers took the hand of a tall bearded fellow; gray, fiftyish. Click here to finish Jack’s story.

“My Brother Began to Live,” Justin Robinson

beneath floorboards
pretending to

play hide-and-seek
jar lighting bugs

collect bottle caps
& build tree houses

pretending to rest his head
on pillows