-- Gabrielle Griot is a Massachusetts-born writer living on the west coast of Florida. Her work can be found in several literary magazines and online at gabriellegriot.com.
Category: Poetry
“ARBOR DAY, OR SUBURBAN ABECEDARIAN”
Arbor Day again in Michigan. Dusk’s lightbathed in mosquitoes & gnats & the shadow of a sunburn.Children reject the buckets in the sandbox,desperate for sleep that their parents are not yet ready to alloweven for the heaviest eyes. The parents need to talk, toflirt, to slide up to their friends’ spouses & suggest a newGilead. … Continue reading “ARBOR DAY, OR SUBURBAN ABECEDARIAN”
“SLEEP PARALYSIS OR IN THE ARCANE SOUTHERN IDIOM, ON BEING RIDDEN BY THE WITCH”
I have subpar facial recognition skills. The face of my college girlfriendmight as well have been the face of a squirrel with an acorn in her mouth.I have excellent hand recognition skills. I remember the formof her hands and the precise length and radius of each of her hand’s fingers. I look at surface, at … Continue reading “SLEEP PARALYSIS OR IN THE ARCANE SOUTHERN IDIOM, ON BEING RIDDEN BY THE WITCH”
“SINECURE” – “LUBBOCK”
Sinecure Outflows are exceeding the inflowsthe ledger is entirely off I leftwork with an infected tooth the light fixtures are separating from the ceilingdark as the shadow across the great ledgerwe have been found to be insolvent so it feels like ethics don't really existmorality is a luxury the limestone hillsroll off toward the suspension … Continue reading “SINECURE” – “LUBBOCK”
“THE ARROW-PIERCED MAN…”
The arrow-pierced manBreathes throughHis eyes -- Josephine Capistrano is a writer in the United States. You can find her on Twitter and Blogger.
“THE SECOND ANNUNCIATION”
She found herself unable to relaxHer nerves while resting her cold hand uponHer belly – vessel for the fruited seed.With child she felt as though she lived two lives,The one she saw through narrowed eyes her own,And one whose eyes watch over all the Earth. A cool night in a desert winter came,And brought with … Continue reading “THE SECOND ANNUNCIATION”
“DASHER DONNER BLITZEN”
Lone heron watch - in ditch beyondthe reach of my derision -Spark of myself - corresponds -to a trembling - thin incision - Sunshroud fog - reflected still -dewdrops - speckled - spiderstuck -The cat living - on the windowsill -My father’s yellowpickup truck. Elysian - divided - now -Each cold tear’s - reflection -In … Continue reading “DASHER DONNER BLITZEN”
“COAT OF FLIES”
You came to menetted from hairto ankle in a coatof flies. Not speaking,not movingexcept in the fidgetsof a thousand clear wings. I wanted to ask youso many things.But when I motionedto speak,you scattered. -- Sean Bronson is currently working abroad as an English teacher. His first chapbook of poems, published by Anxiety Press, will probably … Continue reading “COAT OF FLIES”
“BILL AND COO, OLD MISTLETOE”
Wine dark, worried woolen-hands,apart from all, tin tinsel strands.Eurydice and Orpheus-miasmic eucalyptus bliss.Tissue drizzle, blinked in pairs,wherefore art deliberate love?Yuleish years of tears and tears.Ghostly bell sound hung above. Apart from all, the scrape and brush,and under, over, loving lush.Fettered flecks, below bestow,sign to sign, assign and so-and so until the next depart,apart from all, … Continue reading “BILL AND COO, OLD MISTLETOE”
“THE OUTBUILDINGS” – “FIXER-UPPER”
The Outbuildings They seemed to be apologizingto nature. Shaded by widely-spacedcottonwoods (once a mystical, healing tree),emerging almost coylyfrom behind low mowed hills. Not “vernacular”architecture, but made by machineswith taste. Role obscure:huts? storage? Orcould walls be rolled up, made to disappear,leaving a sort of stage for contemplation? Only slightly denseras I walked. Always trees, tree shadow,lack … Continue reading “THE OUTBUILDINGS” – “FIXER-UPPER”
APOCALYPSE CONFIDENTIAL 