the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.

wally’s world

by David X. Hugo

on the way to the
vee eff double yew
i saw dereks in the
cornfields
and i can see why you’d
not want to be here.
i hear they sent you
in to cash-for-gold
and got a settlement
from a white house,
overnight,
postdated for two years,
and i see what the govern
meant. side-note:
my baby she is a cow in
the pasture,
all four of her stomachs
filtering the asbestos-grass
(have you seen the commercial
for the new tree ants?
delicious, i hear).
my friend denny, see, he lives
on every corner,
he puts syrup on his bread
and sells you awful puns for
10 a piece.
and, i suppose, i’m glad as hell
you finally walked out of wally’s
world, we’re all still unsure
as to why any of us bought
tickets. ’till then it’s midnight
in the living section.

i’m with you a little too much in spirit. this is painful

by Roger Mugs

clogged up 20 hours into
a 36 hour trip they re-routed
you for 36 more hours testing
the very limits of mental sanity
because this is a quality
dutch airline and thats the way
they see customer service

frailty

by Julio Chapluzki

and such is life
that in the end,
one small fall is all it takes
to metaphorically end a life,
perhaps beyond repair;

while I metaphorically fall
several times a day.

Until It’s Too Late

by beighartman

Moist soil tears up with one stab of the shovel.
Grass and roots and everything beneath.
All the while whistling reassurance to myself
That in time, everything will be understood.
I’m digging myself deeper
But I swear I have the best intentions.
And right now, about waist high,
I can climb out if I need to.
Want to?
Have to?
It’s just that one of these days
With no way to escape,
She’s going to peer over the precipice I’ve created,
Saying that “it’s time.”
And I won’t be able to stop her.
With walls too steep to climb,
The weight of the earth will come tumbling in,
Suffocating us both under my negligence.

kind of like puppies

by Julio Chapluzki

sad eyed
and anxious to explore,
yet trapped in a box
atop the day’s news
and remnants of urine,

this is the life.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 81 other followers