If the Blackbird Can Sing in the Dead of Winter
Poetry

If the Blackbird Can Sing in the Dead of Winter

It’s been a post-apocalyptic winter around here,the sun smothered by ash-gray rags sodden with snow,the snow wrung out on our heads by the bony handsof Arctic winds. Some ancient ice god wants us dead,judging by the icy daggers he hangs around our houses.At night, he presses his face against the black windowsand claws at our…

To the Tomato Gods
Poetry

To the Tomato Gods

A poem, with a side of basil. If it’s miracles you’re after,then in the darkest days of Decemberpurchase packets of tomato seedsand hold them close, like holy cards,and recite the litany of their namesas a stay against winter’s cruel claws:Brandywine, Oxheart, Black Krim, Rosella;Honey Gold, Pink Girl, Moon Glow, Tigerella;Chianti Rose, Sunrise, Orange Jazz, Tangella….

Axis Mundi
Poetry

Axis Mundi

So, if you would be a Saint,by which I mean that S-Tstands stoutly before your name;and miracles multiplylike dandelions springingwild from your incorrupt heart;and your wise eyes stare star-likefrom icons, your head haloedon silver platters of paint;and we remember your death-day with feasts, and bells ringing;if you would be, in short, thou:— then pray, do…