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Paper Darts Magazine
I’m belatedly discovering the art and lit magazine, Paper Darts. This is certainly a function of being out of touch with the Minneapolis/St. Paul scene, which is forever active and evolving. I’ve yet to see a printed version, but have ordered the back issues for download, from the Store heading on the site. Today’s reading…
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Mary Oliver poem for today: Walking to Oak-Head Pond, and Thinking of the Ponds I Will Visit in the Next Days and Weeks
by Mary Oliver What is so utterly invisible as tomorrow? Not love, not the wind, not the inside of stone. Not anything. And yet, how often I’m fooled- I’m wading along in the sunlight- and I’m sure I can see the fields and the ponds shining days ahead- I can see the light spilling…
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Survivor
That morning, the train whistle sounded like the strum of a guitar. A soft strum, now and again, without rhythm but tuneful. That was the same day he killed a dead man. He’d limped along the parade route, stopping here and there but never finding the perfect viewing place. Sometimes he stopped among old men…
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Sonnet 3: Wind
As furious as your moods, the dry wind Blasts through bones of the hillside home it shakes, Finds chinks, slams doors, slaps the raw façade thinned By anticipation of drought or quakes. Out of the nowhere, clouds picking up dust Scatter debris from some previous lives, Spinning blame across the field, fragments thrust Like hail,…
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The Mazarrón Haiku
1. Four lucky dogs live Because she rescued them and No one’s shot them yet. 2. Neighbors hate the dogs Who bark at neighbors’ talking And at cats stalking. 3. Cigarette smoke dwells On dog hair, broken hardware, Windblown doors, gnawed bones. 4. In Mazarrón, wind Climbs the dusty roads, spreading Chalk…