Two Poems by Lew Jones

I Saw the Crows of Summer Charge the Powder Blue Sky

I saw the crows of Summer charge the powder blue sky

Roadwork on the freeway could not stop their mission

Technology w/ all its posture could not halt their flight

Like midnight ink splattered on sunny white sheets

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Town Day

In Pelican, they say the dump, a mile outside of town, is the only place with cell service.

And so he clomps off the boat

and off the float, up the ramp,

away from town, hot showers,

a fresh bag of flour, and stamps

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Lola Peter's Poem

Barbie Dogs

I am a dog with no master


Proud and hungry

Go where I want

Envied by shampooed, collared pedigrees

Watching me lick my wounds

Through the plate glass of their cosseted lairs

Vicariously reliving my pain

From their blankets in front of the living room fireplace

Knowing only what they're told to know

Turning tricks for kibbles and bits.

Unaware of the strength in their own jaws

Or the hidden speed of their haunches.

While I roam the world at my own pace




Fu Manchu

Fu Manchu, a caricature,

the Chinese, sinister,

popularized in Hollywood,

spread to all neighborhoods.


The Chinese came,

in the 1840’s,

looking for gold,

mocked by society,

Whites said, “Oh, so sorry!” (Chinese accent)

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I walked up the pavement and there, much to my delight, was a tienda, a store selling beer and wine and hard liquor, jammed full of people.  I bought a big 40 oz. can of Tecate’.  There was a quaint little park almost directly across the street from the store.  I sat down at a bench, intending to pull out my weed and pipe and have a little toke to go along with my beer.

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David Fewster

In Salem, the winter fog settles at sundown
like gauze, blinding and oppressive,
a cold, wet blanket of
Fuck You For Being Here.
On such an evening, I imagine
John Fahey in some shithole welfare hotel,
perhaps the Holiday Lodge on Hawthorne.

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