“Tale of Two Poems”

By Leah Mueller   The poem is closed for the evening. The poem has folded its wings and curled its long beak against its breast. The poem sleeps like a car at the bottom of an ocean. You do not see the poem until the sun has risen. You’ll need to turn the coffeepot back … Continue reading “Tale of Two Poems”

You

By Bob McNeil     You get used to the sun laughing at your inability to rise.  Your clock is jocular as well, chortling between bells at you.  Each annoying tintinnabular sound is there to rouse you. All of the clock’s attempts are to no avail.  Coffin-lid-rigid, you continue lying on your bed. Unconcerned with the alarm, … Continue reading You