The Lake
The Lake

Stephen Anderson, High Wire

 

 

 

the forge

 

america is a newborn loaded up 

with notions of democratic grandeur 

yet-to-mature, america is every 

sweat-john & jane doe

treading on its backbone trying to find

their own song, america is everything

to Lady Liberty, but shift-shaped nightmares

to most of the people pounding its streets,

america is the victim of historical spasms of 

hypocrisy, people being dislocated from land 

to land by others locating on that land, america

has had its share of vile corruption that has

rotted our roots, america is contented customers, 

with its Fords, Chevys, Oldsmobiles, Coca Cola 

& Marlboros, rich oil & gas & coal & lest we forget 

steel companies that all built this hulking, guzzling 

juggernaut phenomenon that still is a home & isn’t a home 

to its huddled masses, those good-faith immigrants

sprung far & wide with constitutionally-derived 

notions from the framers of this novice, upstart

nation that has rewarded only those who

circle up their wagons to fend off any perceived 

adversity, america is children hiding under their 

school desks to avoid death by gunfire, america 

is a child of change but doesn’t yet know it, america 

has become divided, like it or not, into distinct blue 

& red territories, primed & prepped for a clash,

a fragmentation of brothers & sisters, family & friends, 

a condition of cultish, cultural clash very apt to bleed 

america into a moribund coma, not unlike that of a 

terminally-ill child still dreaming like Horatio Alger 

to someday become whole.

 

 

Further details

Linda McCauley Freeman

 

 

 

The Photo

 

Taken of my parents and me on the gangplank

of a restored Paddlewheel Riverboat. One of those photos

venders take without asking, then charge you to keep.

 

My father has this photo, framed on his dresser.

My mother’s hair, golden where the sun has caught it,

her mouth wide, smiling. My father next to her, holding

her jacket in front of him. And the jagged cut between them,

where he’d scissored me out of the picture

and pasted the two of them together.

 

 

Further details

It's not easy getting a book or pamphlet accepted for review these days. So in addition to the regular review section, the One Poem Review feature will allow more poets' to reach a wider audience - one poem featured from a new book/pamphlet along with a cover JPG and a link to the publisher's website. Contact the editor if you have released a book/pamphlet in the last twelve months or expect to have one published. Details here

Reviewed in this issue