poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:020
TERRY WOLVERTON : Humid
WENDY HAMMOND & MATTHEW RETOSKE : Pictureshow
CHARLES P RIES : Be Anything with Me
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TERRY WOLVERTON
Humid
Seven moods rise from somewhere beneath the water. Lightning fells the cardamom tree. Rooster can't remember the scented air, each fallen moon. Eyes cannot track the nineteen shifting directions. The puppet steps into shadow to feel the illusion of alone. Passengers are falling into currents of light. I take refuge in the weather, heat of her hand on my wrist. Even the storms kiss us, roll out seaweed and breath. Black days pour down like chemicals, spatter our tired spines. Jesus on the escalator, vanishing before the Ice Age. Surface is still cracking. Somewhere time begins eleven times, then stops.

poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:020

All the fine arts are species of poetry--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

poetry repairs your heart
even as it splits it open.
VIRGINIA WOOLF
The Art of Reading




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TERRY WOLVERTON is the author of ten books of poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction, most recently Wounded World: lyric essays about our spiritual disquiet. She is Affiliate Faculty of the MFA Writing Program at Antioch University


WENDY HAMMOND  & MATTHEW RETOSKE
Pictureshow
after midnight and hours before the fall darkness leaks in through the cracks spindling this milk vessel churning black butter vagrant lovers fuck under the fire escape a pageant of Protean devotion their cries heave in two-four time night owls, perched like voyeurs unlatch their windows, heads spin skirt over hip like Saturn's rings heels kick wind skin tight on the afterburner moonlight, reflects their sex like shadow poetry calligraphic, scripted on the tautness of glassy muscles pressed against her breasts the profile of a french kiss silent-film on scorched celluloid bubbles into penetrating light heat folded into sheets, black and white tango of thorn torn tongues entombed in grainy forgotten permanence

poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:020

I have many things to write unto you but
I will not write with pen and ink
--JOHN the theologian

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WENDY HAMMOND & MATTHEW RETOSKE published their joint efforts in Midwestern Waters on poetryrepairs.


CHARLES P RIES
Be Anything with Me
CHARLES P RIES
I wonder about the things people love. The things that make them feel alive. He felt alive - pllying his accordion like a race car driver. Wonder why he'd wanted to plly an accordion that fast? Think it helped him pick up women? Never thought of the accordion as a tool for the procurement of sex. But what do I know? I write to feel alive. I know it's not sexy. All alone in the basement, pllying music no one can hear. Downhere I wait for inspiration. Populating worlds with people like that accordion pllyer short, stocky guy in an old tux. Probably from Russia is my guess. Pllying so fast I see flames sprout from his finger-tips. I'm engulfed in a sea of flames. Open the window, let some air in, call the fire department. Where's my water? A god making worlds in his basement. Come join me. Let me give you a life, or a lover, or a clown's nose. Anything is possible when we're alive.


poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:020

Poetry endangers the established order
of the soul - Plato

REPAIR: resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition.
-- Oxford English Dictionary



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TERRY WOLVERTON : Humid
WENDY HAMMOND & MATTHEW RETOSKE : Pictureshow
CHARLES P RIES : Be Anything with Me

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