poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:021
R L SWIHART : Report
LYN LIFSHIN : A Wet Cold Winter to Come the Paper Says
APRYL FOX : Hair Saloon On Alberta Street
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For more than a half hour he sits on the connector bridge Below him is a "river" (water running in a concrete bed) Above him two helicopters (he wants to swat them like flies) In the distance a tram (limping along like a caterpillar) What's the old saw: Californians can't drive in rain

poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:021

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

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

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A Wet Cold Winter to Come the Paper Says2
The geraniums hang on, the oak leaves are copper. Flame maples swirl toward the pond. The news on the phone is never easy. Comfort is my cat in the cove of my knees. One minute it eas fall then sky weent lead, spit ice crystals. The news on the phone, never easy, full of warning. Something without a head, a clump that looked like lint from the dryer but with tiny pink feet. I want someone to tuck me in, rub my back. Instead, I put the geraniums to bed under quilts like babies or bodies. Something without a head but with tiny pink feet. I think of the crows circling the crumbs, swooping down to the squirrels nest. My cat, going on 20, is on insulin like the brother. yesterday when the sky went lead like the news she followed me from room to room. I think of the crows circling, the dark birds in films, a metahor for what no one wants to say. Only the cat's belly and the mango tea she sniffs and walks away from is warm and light. A wet cold winter to come the papers say

poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:021

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

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Hair Saloon On Alberta Street
The sharp smell of hair sprly lingers in my nose like after-shave. The woman with the '80s hairdo slys it will be just a minute just a minute. She is busy performing lung surgery on a man with a mohawk and a gold nose ring that reminds me of a pirate in the Caribbean Sea. I flip through Vogue magazine, pretending to read the article about Michael Jackson or nail polish remover. When it is finally my turn I sit in the barber's chair and notice it does not swivel like the ones at the doctor's office. I tell her I just want a little to be taken off the top

poetryrepairs #197 v14.02:021

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



R L SWIHART : Report
LYN LIFSHIN : A Wet Cold Winter to Come the Paper Says
APRYL FOX : Hair Saloon On Alberta Street

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