“Oh”
Stripped.  Dropping the same
shivers
over and over again.  Ice
sliding cross human
skull
til numb is pain.
                Sam Hoskins

“don’t just do something sit there”
thinking
is arbitrary
mental chatter–
trivia–
bolting up
clattering wombs
systematic
umbilical strangling exactness
lacking
the life of

lax
                   Sam Hoskins

 “Condemned”
Riding, forever riding
on the walls,
the place twists its head
as the scribbled fray of strips
crisscross the stairwell sideways,
sinking color into cement pores
where rain has stayed and
decayed their way into the cocked heads
of the open yellowed windows leaning out
in suicidal fixation over the city streets,
staring down at their broken bodies.

Writing, forever writing
in the halls, of places wild and forgotten,
the light leaves skid marks
as it chases rats and rages about,
sticks its crooked fingers beneath the doors,
sniffing around the flattened mold
for the plug’s ground zero,
for the soft winded world’s incantations

Looking, forever looking
beneath and around the knobs all lined
in a row across the wall,
leading into the insulation slew,
the pipes, the paint, then the other room
once, and then again
groping the prospect of morning,
as every figure cast onto the wall fades
into a separate and isolated
corner of the mind.
                Alex Joins

“Running Loneliness”
I’m running loneliness
along the curves of your rocky spine
on a rolling track wedged behind
the wrinkles of forgotten knotted skin
where your head nuzzles warmly
into the cutlery of vertebrae
hanging off below:
a cliff constructed by a sling of hanging wire
slumped so heavenly serpentine
never failing to defy
victorian pose.

As fingers fade
into the cropped lines of a fair complexion,
into the depths of an auburn studded pool
I’m running loneliness up and down
the  mountains of your chin
down the gorges, up the wind-swept trench
further on, to the apparition’s brew
acting only as the glue entwined
in the moats all surrounding your furrows
that somewhere meet
and connect your limbs
to the rest of the world.
                Alex Joins

“Womb”
I could sleep forever
inside the open door’s frozen veneer,
swung tight out into the old times of season,
caught in the rocky clutch
of the place
where our heels have trodden down
the wooden steps,
where small rabbits
curl into half-moon pies,
where small children
fantasize of their birth,
caught in the grip
of a glowing red
reminisce.
                Alex Joins

“Midnight”
Barely conscious
Waking dream flutter
Wisps of smoke, caught
By the fog

Frozen, fighting
To escape the blanket
Of exhaustion, chilled
By persistent apathy

Blinds closed
Darkness finally victorious
Not drifting, but captured
By restless sleep
                Anastasia Towe

Red
i am the spaces
between your ribs.
red river ribbons
knotted down your back.

i feel your lungs breaking.
beautiful bleeding
mountains crumbling
like lace around my hips.

they say
your skin was sewn from maps
and your bones were
built from broken bottles.

i tell them
i am the mapmaker
and we were lovers
once.
             sarah rodriguez

Preoccupied
(Stare.)I turn slack handle of frowning door(Stare.)
I feel the weight of oil rush my cheeks(Stare.)(Stare.)
I turn to look just to avert my glance from your(Stare.) I’ve gouged
a gap
into the brain that compels the neck to cut across the shoulder and(Stare.)
you(Stare.)a hairline crack between my perceived sheen
and yours
it grows and grows
like a threadbare(Smirk.)
               Sam Hoskins

Watch this space for future updates – and keep on writing Stanton!!

A possible date might be sometime towards the end of January – in the evening. Participation in the reading would require attendance at a prearranged practice session. We could have refreshments….
Let us know what you think.

“Insatiable”
Insidious whispers
Spread through the masses,
Like a brush fire.
Paper in a chemical explosion.
Choke and hack at thick smoke.

Clear of Bedlam by far,
Yet they observe with
An unwavering eye,
A horse in the New World.
Poking and prodding
With electric nodes.
Their strings and rods extend
From limbs
Greedy, ravenous, slobbering palms
Fingertips buzzing mouths agape.
Hungry hands.
Satiated with control.
Jake Harrelson

“The Rim”
Out at the rim of perception,
That slight deviant slot between light and day,
Is the lost and found wildflower-merry soul,
All barefoot and bathed,
Restless in the twilight of phantasma:
Pipe dreams tunneled, burrowed,
Into rich, golden oblivion limbo.
Alex Joins

“Guest Bathroom”
cheap checkered tiles
separate the abstraction
of your presence from
the coffee-colored
formality that carpets the
rest of the house

your welcome is temporary,
conveniently set beneath the
cabinet, pressed between
towels and fresh soap,
unscented and unused
Sarah Rodriguez

“on your decision to return to california”
confined the passenger side,
surrounded by
nostalgic candy bar wrappers and
braided cassette tapes.

traffic yawns heavily,
blinking to the cadence of
the static radio preacher.

your eyes are deserted, incomplete,
focused on strangling the steering wheel.
unnoticed, i dissolve
into the airless leather seat.

the light changes,
but i don’t move.
Sarah Rodriguez

“Kept”
we enlisted stares like new species
eyes frozen in novel registration on our glass
heads cocked
like mute guns
for attack we’d been braced since creation;
we were our own hip-swaggering, high-browed, note-jotting, puce-uniformed keepers
carefully calculating
rejecting or ordaining
each shimmer of hesitant heart clench
Sam Hoskins

Congratulations to all those whose poems were selected.
Serendipity will meet again soon so keep writing!!!

Bring an original, polished copy of a poem – flash fiction – photograph (no faces – landscapes preferred) – to share and submit.

Lumbering thunder clouds
Are silhouetted by summer heat-lightning

Their dark constructs plastered across the heavens
Obscuring the stars from view

The sky could be falling
And no one would ever know

            Emily Griffenkranz

Congratulations Emily!!!

Our next meeting will be a month from now so get writing Stanton.

Bring your poetry, short fiction, and photography for submission…

All submissions should be in final draft form, typed, polished, and ready for publication.  The club will select only the best pieces for publication to the blog. 

See you then!!!