by Gloria Frym

Place existence out of time, in the vicinity of eternity.

Drop a medallion in any mailbox.

Reserve the right to be forgotten.

Don’t only go where you are loved.

Believe in hopeless hope.

Consider the violence of poisoned water.

Visit the All-You-Want store.

Take a knife to the pencil and sharpen its moral center.

Watch the blossoms fluttering to the grass like snowflakes.

Capture all of summer in one image.

Build a quiet jackhammer.

Put your demons on a red leash.

Know that more wants more.

Study compelling contradictions.

by Richard Martin

We were in a dream,
shoveling snow & busy
imitating a symphony of birds
on a transistor radio.

“No explanations as per request,” you said.
“Write the love letters you promised.”

Dearest X,

Like you, I am fond of expensive
wines & abstruse conversation.
I am enthralled by your beauty,
polish my words into mirrors
     for the soul.  I flash my Plato
     Fan Club Card as neighbors
turn into strangers.

Hats off to Larry,

A

Dearest Y,

So, you’ve changed your name
from X to Y.  I majored in Onomastics
in college, developing an acute
fondest for names associated
with love and beauty — Aphrodite,
Bella, Amor, etc. Y means all
of these to me.

Did you know heaven adores
the invisibility of dark energy?

Who wrote the Book of Love?
B

Dearest Z,

The alphabet can’t keep me from you.
I am addicted to “letters” & enticed
by your flashy body & fleshy lips.
BTW, my last foray into the majesty
of clouds left me heartbroken
     & without wings.

O, the holy electromagnetism of it all!
I built a house of light to honor you.

Goo goo g’joob

C

Dearest X, Y & /or Z,

I love the mystery
of not knowing
if I know you.
Is that you banging on
the door of our dream?
My exhaustion for you
is incomplete arid transparent.
I live in the iconic moments
of an imagined presence.

Welcome! to the body of this letter.
It has been waiting for you
without complaint or signature.

PS  I have sealed my guilt
in stardust dogmas
falling into the sea.

by Richard Martin

Exiting a maze of memory boards,
I entered a town whose gold-eyed inhabitants
shed mirrors of distance during elaborate conversations.
At the intersection of A and -A, a cloud of timeless clocks hovered above me like a portal to eternity.
While considering my options, the mayor emerged
from a sunflower in a garden of angels.
Over cocktails during a rainstorm of rainbows, she explained
the mantra of the town, its raison d’être for existing.
A woman of no particular age, her golden eyes gleamed, kindness. Periodically, schools of colorful fish swam through her,
until replaced by a staccato of sunsets without warning.
“You see in this world,” she said, “we honor the transience of beauty.”
She handed me a satin envelope and excused herself
due to a prior engagement.  I opened it and read:
Get your head into the game and see if you know your meditation facts with this mindfulness quiz.  PS LOL.
When my manager clipped me on the back of the head,
my laugher ceased.  A faint glimmer of hope flickered
on my laptop’s screen.

by Johnny Flaherty

There are different kinds of luck
there’s shit luck and there’s fortune
one’s earned and one just happens
a bit of both is the trick

there are different kinds of lies
more readily accepted than truth
whether spun with glib tongues
or spat with defiant eyes

there are different kinds of greed
a thirst for knowledge is admirable
while the controlling of others’ minds
is unsurpassed in human thrills

when tasked to provide a cogent motive
shit luck may grant you a timely exit