GAIL ENTREKIN : Shaving Our Heads
DYAN SANDEFER : Evil Seed
JUDITH LAURA : Washington Heights
POETRYREPAIRS v12.08:090
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Shaving Our Heads Evil Seed Washington Heights  
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GAIL ENTREKIN
Shaving Our Heads
I say I'll shave my head, become a moon- face bald pink shining defenseless- seeming creature in some kind of funny hat, when your hair falls out in tufts on the pillow case in the morning, your crisp silver beard thins, soft flesh under chin shows through. When we shave our hair, our skin-covered skulls, which we have never seen, will be revealed, embarrassed in their naked whiteness, their lumps and bumps and funny spots, no help for the unfortunate contours of our faces, our strange prominent nose or ears, heads that haven't been seen by anyone since we were babies and our mothers ran their fingers through our delicate fuzz, our fathers palmed our noggins in their callused hands, admired how like heavy fruit we felt, and wondered who was waiting inside these perfect structures, these elegant bony domes.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.08:090
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Shaving Our Heads Evil Seed Washington Heights  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

DYAN SANDEFER
Evil Seed
When the seed implanted in her mind grew, branching out into her limbs, she found herself calmly standing at the local sporting goods store counter, trying to buy the method to her means. They would not let her bring home that day the key that would release her from the prison of her pain. Something about tighter gun laws, they said. For three more days she had to live her life, cooking, cleaning, looking normal. All the while pondering the choice from which she would not waver. Was there anyone whose face she etched upon the wall of her weary mind? Someone she longed to hold tight, to tell good-bye, one last time? Did she neatly lay out the burial clothes? Didn't anybody see her grief? When the call finally came from the sporting goods store that day, she rushed on down, picked up the bullets, had them show her how to load the thing, and quietly paid for her purchase. Then she went straight home and pulled the trigger.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.08: 090
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato





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Shaving Our Heads Evil Seed Washington Heights  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ under 18? klik here

JUDITH LAURA
Washington Heights
The old man, small in full coat and felt fedora, stands on the park terrace, a gray rectangle looking down on the Hudson. His left hand rests on the black iron fence high above the river as he follows tiny tugs scavenging for ocean liners. His right hand clutches crumbs he will release to the birds soon. The breeze lifts from the water spray that kisses his face, not freezing like tears on his lashes in the old country this time of year but simply vanishing into the blue sky where puffed white clouds chase planes. A stronger gust pulls at his snug hat. Secure, he smiles, turns sits on a bench, his back to the water his coat covering his knees, shielding his calves. Pigeons land on the cement and look to him for sustenance while on the other side of the terrace beyond the iron rail children climb granite rocks, mountains in their minds, and they, galloping cowboys. Wind calms gull glides onto the terrace mid pigeon protests and the old man tosses, a bit at a time, the crumbs in four directions, brushing the last groundward with both hands. As the birds compete for the scattered meal he rises walks down the terrace steps past the children's Western laughter and heads toward the pavilion where he will play chess and perhaps win if not the game then at least friends to share afternoon tea hot in a tall glass sipped through a sugar cube.
POETRYREPAIRS 12.08: 090
GAIL ENTREKIN : Shaving Our Heads
DYAN SANDEFER : Evil Seed
JUDITH LAURA : Washington Heights
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