John Devers Jr., Summer 2016

Two Poems

Kingston
John Devers Jr.

Let your car replace your mind
And drive
To retrace your steps
Down old, familiar streets.
You pass the pizza place
Turned floral shop,
Whose pizza was terrible
With over-risen bread
And diluted tomato sauce,
But you ate it because
You were young
And your parents
Only gave you so much.

You pass the ice cream shop,
Where either the workers
Got younger
Or you got taller,
And your chances of low-key
Freebies
Dropped exponentially
The further you went away
From your High School graduation.

You pass your ex’s house Continue reading “John Devers Jr., Summer 2016” →

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Sharlene Gilman, Summer 2016

Two Poems

Dear Fractal Me, 14, 28, 42, 56, maybe 70 (Growing Up True and False)
Sharlene Gilman

I’m here from the future only temporarily present. I tell you
Only half believe when they say “be yourself” — no
one really cares if you are yourself or anyone else or not, the best
reason, therefore to care about yourself since no one else
does. Only half believe when they say “something
to fall back on.” True, Falling is a law of the universe, though falling
forward & sideways can be true as much as back. Words will
not hurt, you’ve been told. False: though words hurt not
as much as they will if you believe them or when
you want someone not to. Return then to Rule
One: Be yourself but in half-belief, so respect Continue reading “Sharlene Gilman, Summer 2016” →

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Dawn Leas, Summer 2016

Two Poems

Manual Labor
Dawn Leas

A half-moon huddle of guys
in front of used tire shop–
grease-rimmed nails, calloused hands,
jeans riding low t-shirts bearing the brunt
of their work. Cigarettes pinched
between middle fingers and thumbs,
they alternate between long drags
and swigs of fresh coffee
from extra-large Styrofoam cups.

Driving to my desk job
in the simmer of summer
air chilling my bare arms,
I vow to one day roll down
the windows and linger at stop sign Continue reading “Dawn Leas, Summer 2016” →

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Ed McCafferty, Summer 2016

Two poems

Sunflowers
Ed McCafferty

We usually walked everywhere,
but that day burned into us
with a bright chrome yellow,
and my father was on edge
so we rode the Forty Fort bus.
The bus was hot and crowded
and its motion caused me to vomit.
My father tried to clean it up
with his handkerchief,
like gathering in a sunflower
which had fallen
in the thick stale air.

A coal miner, standing
in the aisle while riding
home from his shift,
his face and work clothes dark
with coal dust and looking
like a statue of some saint Continue reading “Ed McCafferty, Summer 2016” →

0

Release Party Wrap-up

We had our cake, and then we ate it too.
We had our cake, and we ate it too.

Friday night, after a two-year hiatus, we celebrated the return of Word Fountain, the Literary Magazine of the Osterhout Free Library. Editors, writers, readers, and fans gathered in the Reading Room of the library for an unorthodox, but Continue reading “Release Party Wrap-up” →

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