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How We Blended
by Suzanne Dennison
How We Blended In the hazy heat of smell and sound Dreams of our love-scenes profound Find expression as the music flows. The glory of our union posed In permanent form thru harmony --- The memories stay alive in me Listening to fingers hit ...
Silent Encores
by Wayne Wolfson
Her presence enforced a silence. It was Sunday night all over again, having to play “Autumn Leaves for drunken tourists. Afterwards, having to sit around and wait until Eggs deemed fit to give us our pay. Those late hours, they trick you, never advancing at normal or expected speed. The established ...
A Permanent Imprint
by Suzanne Dennison
The opposite of August I'm buried in snow Your body so distant And sorrow flows Thru the beauty in music Makes our love ever glow. For each time listening I feel you in my bones A permanent imprint Woven thru ...
Alarm Clock Dawn
by Eric Vance Walton
Focus is hazed as wing-tip dreams come callingsoftly, persistently those starched seams of material obsessiontrite expressions that seem to echo so endlesslyI've left it all behind this time left it all behind in my mindThe alarm clock dawn methodical in its wringing, starving, stealing time so stealthily that ...
Ancient Skins
by E. Amato
Pounding ancient skins,fathering ecstatic sound.Smile like a doorway to Bliss,spunky dreads dance aroundwhite linenClean,crisply falling oversilver-ringed hands thatsnatch rhythm off theCurve of asweet & pungent riff. The way you ride the horse, baby
Holly
by Wayne Wolfson
She had said it was “a hotel where artists go to die with a certain amount of relish. All right, I could give her that if it made her happy. Still, I would try to avoid her until all my teeth were sharp enough.Suppers eaten too early. Spending a week hidden away in my ...
The Intensity Galactic
by Suzanne Dennison
THE INTENSITY GALACTICSexy sax sounds fill this room With memories sweet, smouldering With recall of the passion Briefly shared so long ago But the intensity galactic And the after-image brightly glows Thru mellow tunes that recall The glory of our ...
Hippo Funereal
by Wayne Wolfson
It has been raining for five days. The sky remains dark, but all the leaves of the trees have become strangely luminescent. A Deagas painting set outside the city with its theaters which he loved. Except for when they are very young, no other animal preys upon the hippo. After their first year they gain about ...
Lauren
by Wayne Wolfson
She picked up two stolen plastic ashtrays and tried to play them, castanets. I toss my ghost, my hat and coat over reached the dead back of the couch, a hounds tooth sky, tiny square dirty white stars. Cleaned with wine, held under a low murmuring horn we kiss, and lower. You ...
Bird
by Wayne Wolfson
A rainy day. Charlie Parker bemoans “All The Things You Are. A puff of smoke through a crack in the window. There is no place to go, and he is already there.She is still sleeping. My eyes dart about the room, bird trapped within its cage. Her arms, birthed from beneath the pillows. She ...
