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Breaking News

whiskey sours

Halifax @ February 8, 2010 # 3 Comments

whiskey sours
by halifax
mama’s secret recipe
Saturday
this town’s last decent man just skipped bail
to scour the different parking lots for one truck
he’s on a mission to lead Junior out of that life
it could take hours to find him
his prodigal son been said to be seen lingering
between the bar and rail, casually cow tipping
twenties at the strip club, [...]

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sugar plum fairy dance

Halifax @ December 17, 2009 # 3 Comments

sugar plum fairy dance
by halifax
faith in faith provides comfort and hope
one means of escape,
a coming fortitude to cope
through things unfair
faerie is a slender straining thread
it stretches further than you can see
a whole world apart unsnarled,
but abandoned by indifferent reason
hope cannot be lost when all that there is
depends on delusional beliefs
in a future unseen
coupled with a [...]

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red betta fish

Halifax @ September 17, 2009 # 7 Comments

red betta fish
by halifax
Seen the splice
a part in the lens
separating sides
my eyes move independently
the film watches me
disturbed sometimes
Edit when it happens
the film must be clean
the colored rocks
they warble in my mind
like distant relatives
better versions of me
the green foreigner.
Ate him roots and all
he tried to mingle
with my perfect family.

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carry water for God

Halifax @ August 17, 2009 # 14 Comments

carry water for God
by halifax
the marriage of æ
Someone put charcoal in my tea
same person cut my mother free,
a thing she rejoiced to
to be rid of me
Someone planted an ash tree
same hand moved ink to see,
a thing wiser than me
to have writ larger
all I reread
__
Someone made the lock and key
some others would bolt doors without me
a [...]

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Pulse Dial

Halifax @ June 1, 2009 # 2 Comments

sparring partners
The bell sounds.
Outside the ring
stars throw a blur
of white knuckles
in paired millions
at you
but the crusher sun has got your back. we are slabs of meat,
He’s a fist that pummels the sky laid down to cover the swelling.
purple again for looking it is our coldness that heals back the black [...]

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weaner illthrift

Halifax @ March 4, 2009 # 5 Comments

weaner illthrift
by halifax
new shoes
rain drop cow plop
metal roof rust proof
dead dust sweet grass dry turf chicken coop hack saw rope swing tall wire dog bark white stump low fence grate gravel
wind blown soft spot septic tank slow down snail trail bam boo frog hop wet bee yucca plant thick vine deep green full grown [...]

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Fiction Contest

Editor @ February 22, 2009 # 15 Comments

The writers guild local has a need to inform interested Texas writers that they are currently accepting submissions for their yearly Fiction Contest. They are a small venue so odds are in the writers favor that they will win one of the three cash awards as well as the figurative feather in the cap that [...]

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Letting go of handshakes

Halifax @ February 5, 2009 # 3 Comments

Letting go of handshakes
by halifax
Elegy to a Terminal Acquaintance
You tragically dead hero
So stoic in brief bereavement.
They filed you impeccably dead,
Stored under dirt in a boxed suit.
The stone placard vitae
Rambles thru an accurate
Tight graven word count,
Impressing your best works.
Ravens visit daily to chat
And drop their own stones
Like crisp business cards
On a brand new contact.
I just can’t [...]

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Getting Over the Moon

Halifax @ January 11, 2009 # 6 Comments

Getting Over the Moon
{Nica’s Bird}
by halifax
The Dish ran away with the Spoon
Both are in her apartment to cohabit
She got all the horns and legs unlocked,
Out–of-hock, gave them back to him.
His bright round blast blows “Sister, why you try so hard?”
Calls out to sleepy blue boys “There’s nothing but deception here.”
Resting deep in shade “You’ve got [...]

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Margery Meantwell and the Heel of the Loaf

Halifax @ December 21, 2008 # 2 Comments

{The Family Two-shoes}
by halifax
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
Her husband’s left boot on her foot
makes his lead-steps before their children still.
The right one is on her eldest son.
He followed close behind to watch
Her steps, match the stride, and
In his father’s voice
Intone the calling song.
He stands as tall behind her now
on the [...]

More on page 1521