Tuesday, 31 August 2010

on sondra street

after the fight
she drives down sondra
tiny houses she once loved
now teardowns
torn down

Monday, 30 August 2010

British Faux Pas

My friend Laura comes to Los Angeles. She drove from New York with her new boyfriend, Isaac. Says a pheasant flew through their back window in Idaho. We walk to Fazzi’s to shoot pool. Issac is British, says things like balls and cheers, mate. He kicks our asses, using strategy like a pro. When he uses the “loo” I ask Laura if he’s circumcised. She whacks me over the head with her cue stick.


Robert Vaughan

Sunday, 29 August 2010

curbside spa --
at least a robin is
enjoying the rain


Richard Stevenson

Saturday, 28 August 2010

All that summer we were horses
galloping through green yards
our long hair streaming in the wind


BJ Lee
BJ Lee

Friday, 27 August 2010

scent of rain
candle flickers-flares
dims to glow


T.D. Ingraham
T.D. Ingraham

Thursday, 26 August 2010

All that summer we were horses,
galloping through green yards –
our long hair streaming in the wind.


Wednesday, 25 August 2010


hanging outside a Genovese
garden. Father telling
me I'd wasted my life,
their bitter seeds on my tongue.


Christian Ward

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

One last trumpet left on the foxglove stem, valiant, solitary, sounding the last post for its fallen comrades.


Mel Morris-Jones

Monday, 23 August 2010

twentyten tipping point:
internet the people-cratic leveller
or in tweet fatigue?


Peter Lindsey

Sunday, 22 August 2010

Saturday, 21 August 2010

Holy Communion - the Church Warden has left the labels on his new shoes.


Jon Summers

Friday, 20 August 2010

thick with weeds
glazed with snow
undone by a black Lab.


Joseph Harker

Thursday, 19 August 2010

inside the tight curl
of the yucca leaf
a wood spider


d. f. tweney

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

summer rain
throwing shapes
in the fishpond


Kaspalita Thompson

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Snowmobile tracks
in the cemetery -

Let the dead
bury their own dead.


Tom Montag

Monday, 16 August 2010

an arc of blue and black
head-height hurl through the car park fug
birds recognise no boundaries
but earth and air


Geoff Sawers

Sunday, 15 August 2010

oppressive heat
damselflies lay eggs
in a cloud



Saturday, 14 August 2010

Pebbles of truth

We toss pebbles up into the sky,
watch bats swoop down;
this is her first lesson in dishonesty,

repeat, repeat, repeat.


Rebecca Schumejda

Friday, 13 August 2010

Forty years flirting...
sitting with the Green Tara.
Never getting laid.


Tom Chapman
SV Tatoosh

Thursday, 12 August 2010

On The Derivation Of Slapstick Comedy And The Early Silent Black And Whites

my wife took off on me in the middle of the night.
no dear john letter. nothing stuck to the refrigerator. no explanation.
just a simple banana peel left by the foot of the bed. that's not so funny. is it?


Joseph Reich

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

The sun, threaded with clouds,
shines hazy across the parking lot.
Desert wind ruffles the birds.


James Brush
Coyote Mercury

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

fallen papaya tree

knocked over by wind or vandals
the neighborhood birds,
magpie jays and yellow winged
blackbirds, land in our yard
to feast and sing


Nina Buck

Monday, 9 August 2010

Imperious seagull turns
his head as if on a pivot, and shits. The harbor
is now his.


Megan Kennedy

Sunday, 8 August 2010

dead beetle
seethes with ants
mockingbird shifts songs


T.D. Ingraham

Wednesday, 4 August 2010

The yawp of a cat
Brings me back to a moment
Where the candles have burned themselves away.

Rebecca L. Brown

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

Monday, 2 August 2010


Without the ground there is no tenuous
scent of home. Without the ground
no self crumbles from its weight.


Sean Akerman

Sunday, 1 August 2010

new glasses: all of my mistakes now painfully clear


d. f. tweney
(first published on
Basho's Road)