These are the bodies that must be cared for.This hush of flesh, these swollen lipsthat cannot offer praise or promise.These glorious eyes look through meand what I see are children, a fanfare ofchildren performing pratfalls on a stage. Sue Ann SIMARFirst published in Endless Mountains Review […]

What slips through my fingers is swifter than windwith lively breath and a scent of deatha wisp of lightthe first spoken words of a child Sue Ann SIMARFirst published in Endless Mountains Review Sue Ann Simarwww.10x3plus.com

We were walking through the beesunder the trees that do not sing.Smoke everywhere. And in the cottageat the center of the forest, the raindripping from the roof. The childrenwould sleep or stare out. It was as ifI were a boy again, going downin a white […]

Consider the theology of the stones,how patiently they wait in some lost arroyofor a further incarnation. They like to stay up latein the cool night air. They ignore the obvious thatif they started rolling togetherthey could destroy us. Michael WURSTERFirst published in Pig Iron.Collected in THE SNAKE […]

The stones sitin an all night diner, tough guys,caps,cigars. Their coffeegrows coldbefore them, they are obliviousto the pinball. When you go inin the morningbefore work, they are not there. Michael WURSTERFirst published in Pig Iron.Collected in THE SNAKE CHARMER’S DAUGHTER, Elemenope Productions, 2000. Sue Ann Simarwww.10x3plus.com