Mad Mad

September 28, 2014 at 9:51 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

 irons caves and the sea

blue a thought longing

prolonging into green

birds

when really there is nothing

and time won’t tell

a rotten cucumber

a thing

so a deep breath exhaled

like a prisoner

is all.

– Dominic Alapat

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Sand Dollar

September 7, 2014 at 5:48 am (Dani Clark, Poetry)

A perfect sand dollar
I saw at my toes

so round and white
washed up by waves
that like
a spread of fingers
on the skin
of someone’s back
caressed the shore
back and forth
up and down.

I bent and took it
and realized

it was only the bottom
of a Styrofoam cup.

I can’t stop, won’t stop
my heart’s eagle eyes
from making these holograms
amid the grains of sand
so ravishing and real
for as long as they last.

Until I look closer.

– Dani Clark

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