BILL DIMICHELE ant ant ant ant ant four
June 12, 2014 § Leave a comment
climb down the ladder
many times more ladylike
terminus of light
one little nail-hole
is treasured as the gateway
its mystery breath
fallen from the trees
and into her red mitten
the visiting moon
returns the moonlight
half-lion and half-pharaoh
mingles with the guests
heart beating so fast
and under my fingernails
acorns and oak trees
sarcophagus lid
sinks low above the treetops
wash it down with beer
GARY HOTHAM ant ant ant ant ant 1994-1999
June 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
on the bus tour
the darkness of the tunnel
on everyone’s face
in the desk drawer
papers that were hers
every day
the trees bend
a wind we can’t get
by
tall grass
in the tall grass
a while to listen
down the hall voices
the soft click
as the door shuts us in
around our feet
water on its way
to more water
the rain not holding on
to anything my father turns
66
home late
the darkness the stars
are in
on the rocks around us
water splashed
out of the ocean
snow flakes
no one will miss
melt in her hand
a few feet
from our feet
the ocean bottom starts
only the sound
of their car
comes back
JOHN M. BENNETT ant ant ant ant ant four
June 8, 2014 § Leave a comment
sigh lens hair
(retentions)
hand around you faceless
daughter blue pond and
heaving
other clouds
“my name”
the dead parts of me
June 6, 2014 § 1 Comment
onion grass my son pukes in the sink
the moon who cares where it is
your feet they’re nicer than mine
bottle caps rattle among the spoons
the crow says something for the crows
asphalt heat and foreign policy
the dead parts of me pester the rest
stale crackers easy to put them back
your twat I never call it that
the cat’s meow what’s that really about
the penny not as old as it looks
the extra napkin always gets tossed
rain check nothing to do with the rain
your fingerprint a consistent prostitute
the place on you I know you can’t touch
box tops they usually tear anyways
nails one of them in my foot
sassafras people still actually say that
your panties entwined with my odd socks
toothpaste not sure what I’m supposed to think
all the knives clean I hit the lights
MICHAEL DYLAN WELCH ant ant ant ant ant 1995-1999
June 4, 2014 § 1 Comment
autumn rain
a leaf eddies
in the stream
bouncing on the grass
the whiteness
of hailstones
high tide
beach willow leaves
mingle with kelp
on the drive
there and back
a pine needle in the wiper
french graffiti I drop a coin in the phone booth
overdue my dead neighbor’s library book
my father on war
May 26, 2014 § Leave a comment
I don’t like camping
They made us do that when
I was in the army
SAM SAVAGE morning-glories
May 25, 2014 § Leave a comment
A bent street sign the insane man’s eyes
It could be the site for something a bare hill
Just beyond the prison wall a wall of trees
Dancing to sounds from the Big Band Era a pair of midgets
Out of the fog’s whiteness silence
Unslept, the cool breeze on my eyelids
Alone in a house with children the slowly falling dusk
Along the roadside
torn-up paper in the grass
is morning-glories
HAIKU FOR MARTIN LUCAS
May 7, 2014 § Leave a comment
a new
anthology I learn
of his passing
his brother
concerned
for days
on the page
before me in
the old anthology
went for a walk
left his keys his phone
his pills
said yes
once to one of
my poems
“Is that from your
technique or the toughness
of your mouth?”
your death
attributed to
bird-watching
a collection
of flowers that’s
all it means
his last photo
he looks younger
than me
1962-2014
ant5 