Some pieces from the summer issue before I get started on the October issue….
Bruce McRae actually submitted his work to my friend who runs the literary blog Walking English. He forwarded his work to me and here’s two of the three pieces in the current issue of the Idiom:
The Bee’s Knees
It’s only suddenly dawned on me,
how I’m nothing more than sand in a shoe.
That I’m a puppet in a seaside skit.
A minor character in a beach novel.
How I resemble most a reflection
in a carnival’s trick mirror.
And here I thought I was the pig’s wings,
the caterpillar’s kimono, the gnat’s elbows.
Instead of this tongue-tied parrot
spouting self-righteous oaths in order
that he might confirm his paltry existence.
And not this monkey on a string.
This breeze over the city dump that I am.
This creaking wheel. This lousy haircut.
This poem starts with a cliched title, which I feel is the worst thing you can have in a poem….but then every image after that is so unique and new that it makes the cliche ironic…I love when writers do that….It’s a great poem of self reflection and fun to imagine the different things he lists off.
Assigned False Planets
A paper gun and barbed-wire halo.
A sword made of charitable acts.
The good book of demons and a bomb’s wit.
It was the morning the altar boy went mad,
the very same day the war of the angels began.
We were being good by being bad,
in the same way light leads into darkness.
Someone had put salt in all the sugar bowls.
They’d just proven non-existence exists,
the newspapers buzzing with bruised roses.
Networks filmed their own eventual demise.
A wolf sued a lamb for non-compliance.
The rabid fox of intuition
raided the henhouses of reason.
I don’t know where I am in this poem….it has some narrative parts but its not clear….it flows really well and I loved reading it out loud….even though its abstract I love the small images it creates and I enjoy trying to connect them and creating a scene from it. “A wolf sued a lamb for non-compliance” is a great line and a great concept and the last two lines end the poem beautifully.