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Texas poets on passion weather politics

a hotpoet publication 2022 Editors Kelly Ann Ellis Tina Cardona Guest Editor Sandi Stromberg Graphic Designers Madeleine Castator Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Equinox Is It Hot Enough For You This literary journal is a compilation of the creative works of writers and artists included in it Copyright 2022 by hotpoet Inc and the individual writers and artists All rights reserved ISBN 978 1 7367851 1 9 Editors Kelly Ann Ellis Tina Cardona Guest Editor Sandi Stromberg Graphic Designers Madeleine Castator Vanessa Zimmer Powell Additional artistic enhancements obtained from Canva and Pexels Published online in September 2022 Publisher hotpoet Inc 6715 Wildwood Way Houston TX 77023 4023

Orange Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Letter from the Editor Our literary nonprofit hotpoet began with a conversation over cocktails at Leon s Lounge in Houston TX Tina Cardona and I were sipping mojitos with poet friends and I mentioned that I wanted to create an anthology of steamy poetry and call it Is It Hot Enough for You Tina thought it was a great idea and that we should plan a party around it The theme of that party would be heat as in passion Our first party was in the summer of 2013 when we converged on Tina s house bearing poems and after the festivities created an instant anthology of the poems read that night reproduced here in the first section of this issue First Heat This party evolved into a yearly tradition with celebrations of both summer and winter solstices Our theme was always heat and it came to include writing about heat in various literal and metaphorical manifestations including passion food weather politics and environmental issues Our goals were to write and live joyfully passionately and creatively and to nurture that spirit in others Each party included food fire poetry camaraderie and revelry each ended with the compilation of an instant anthology This issue of Equinox represents a harvest of poems from those instant anthologies We are grateful to all the poets who participate in these celebrations who come when they can bring their best work and good spirits and collectively summon the muse We are especially thankful to those who gave us revised poems and permission to publish them in the following curated collection gleaned from nine years of our conscious effort to live joyfully and continue to create even in the face of global discord and crisis With this in mind we are pleased to finally present Is It Hot Enough for You We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we have enjoyed producing it With the exception of the first section which is a time capsule of sorts that commemorates our inaugural celebration the collection is arranged thematically The emphasis of the first party was passion so you will find our steamiest poetry there After that we settled down a bit only a bit The next sections include poems on a variety of topics all centered around the concept of heat Our poems took a serious turn as our awareness of world events and issues deepened Dates are included with each poem to provide context for the poem It is also interesting to note the growth of individual poets as we have shifted interests and honed craft over the years The one year that we did not meet was of course 2020 when we found ourselves in the throes of global pandemic That year I wrote a poem that expresses the why of these celebrations and the importance of building and supporting a vibrant creative community It is included below Hope to see you at the next feast Kelly Ann Ellis

Repast Once on my way out West I stopped to see the petroglyphs In Seminole Canyon traipsed down an incline in sun and sweat to see what looked like antlered men painted on walls of cave The tour guide showed us the succulents people ground to powder the fire pit where they baked They had to use scaffolds and primer of some sort to paint what wouldn t fade The feast followed a gathering of the tribes to celebrate This in a land of hot sun little water gives answer We need each other In times of fear need to remember art poetry notes of guitar friends good food laughter Respite They say even God rested on the seventh day Work Play Build a scaffold Use primer Share Create Celebrate Not the longest night nor the uncertain return of the sun but these moments in between Prepare a feast to last Kelly Ann Ellis Winter 2020

Portal Vanessa Zimmer Powell

First Heat Poems from the original hotpoet celebration with the original Hot Poets Summer 2013 The point of the memo is Happy

Gatherer of Heat With fretful night sweats I watch in blistering side rooms feel the flux of succubus crucible pulling me down into torrid kiva houses crowded with rubber band shadows untied shoes rhythmic words that sound like breaking plates my doors nailed shut from the outside my underworld sizzling with dire expectation So Life have you crumpled me up Tossed me into a fray so ardent it has seared me into silence No I am a gatherer I keep things hot and festering If you cleave me at my life root or scratch the tumult just under my skin I will eat from the floor in the name of freedom I will eat and sing Carrie Kornacki

Cartography Stretched on my belly I imagine your fingers trace the topography of my back like smoke funneling from forest fires they swirl up shoulder blades a brook slipping through boulders they flow through its valley down to the plains of my lower back your touch moonlight on sway of rice fields Thantcyn Nyan

Combustible Holli May Thomas

Longing tall as she was and thin I suppose there was no help but that her hips should jostle a snake in vertical articulation long legs smoothly tapered thigh to knee to ankle so all I considered was shaving them starting at the bottom and gliding up the calf caressing the nape of the knee sliding gently upward until a finishing stroke inside the thigh trails a rising finger Winston Derden

At the Sea Force of wave takes me with warm silky hand undulating curve whispers messages imparts knowledge sand salt sea I breathe you find you at the surface like froth upon ocean cresting before roll and return Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Under the Clouds Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Joseph Campbell Meets Oprah Winfrey Summer s Best Beach Reads On Galveston Island all the women are hot even the ones who are fat especially the ones who are fat Ask Joseph Campbell and O magazine Both tell me the big girl is archetypal PLUS a great personality a winning smile OK I m quoting Cosmo But of course we re hot It s a hundred degrees I wear a slimming swimsuit black sarong long sleeves gargantuan hat The ocean is warm as a womb the sort of simile I hate like thick as milk Who wants to think about paddling around in amniotic fluid Which we ve all done at least once according to the survey in Cosmo And as for the milk thing reminds me of that line you know the one A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the earth s sweet flowing breast a poem my mother made me memorize Speaking of mothers yours mine I ve always thought I reminded men of theirs what with my pleasant nature and big jugs Oprah and I are both archetypal My mind it s always fertile In mythology it seems the earth is always a woman Even volcanoes are female If a man is ever the ocean he gets to carry a trident We know what that means special powers When Pele is PMS ing her guy can freeze her out just like that That s why men theorize we have trident envy But I will tell you pointedly this is only a myth And yes I admit I d like to be skinny But really here s what I envy The toddler in front of me splashing delightedly chucking buckets at hungry gulls Screaming when angry snoozing under a canopy carefree unaware and chubby Her mother calls her lovely Makes me want to peel off seven layers of self loathing and claim my place among the privileged sultry To swim murky gulf waters messy with sargasso that traveled a long way to be here like us on a day of god s eye blue in Galveston on this beach that s all we got To have my chips and eat them too because life is short and I am hot Kelly Ann Ellis

A Collection of Limericks a Little Less than Clean Sighed Cindy so unfond of shirkin I ve no longer need of a merkin My shrubbery s intact from the front to the back It s been years since my waxer s been workin After sex Mary Lou takes a gainer off the chest of her personal trainer And she shouts Oh his dong is 10 full inches long I m so glad that he s not an abstainer There once was a horny young abbot who was seized with a terrible habit Through the rectory doors he d escort whores galore and they d hump like insane bunny rabbits When writing a poem ekphrastic imagine some scenes orgiastic You ll soon have words flowing think coming not going unless you ve a colon that s spastic Nancy s penchant for sex kept mysteria gave her pause while at her washateria All this to ing and fro ing has gotten me going it s too bad all my neighbors can hear ya With a taste for all things epicure Howard tried all that he could procure All the blonds and red headed and brunettes all were bedded You could say that he was quite cocksure Chester s favorite thing to defile could be found in the fresh pastry aisle He thought it was groovy to do like the movie and savor his pie for a while Carolyn Adams

Memorandum Date July 9 To Lab Technicians From Edward Watkins Section Head Re Drug Trail Status I want to make this super clear about the Wildwood Project One way is to do the job poorly is with a negative attitude Say we need to clean the sauna If we spend an hour before sauna cleaning bad mouthing the process of cleaning the sauna screwing around with kitchen utensils jacking off in a towel so what what occurs next is we make the process of cleaning the sauna more infinitely harder than it appears We all know the saunas must be cleaned by you given that folks have to fuck in the sauna or by the next Joe or Joette if your bubblified washing skills suffer So my question is Do I clean it with a happy face or do I clean it with a sad face What would make my stay here more purposeful What is my mission To avoid going back to jail What mood do I bring to clean the sauna sparkly and rapidly Bad A bad mood state What I m saying is we need to make these trials of this sex drug work Where Outside in the thin cosmic cool air You know well the answers The point of the memo is Happy The happy mental state will assist you in cleaning the sauna so doing it bunny happy in the sauna happens steamy or not thus finishing this trial and your mission of a shortened sentence John Milkereit

Untitled Salvador Macias

Hot Hot hot hot pasta pan full water slushing pouring the sink can only take so much and overflows hot hot air burns me my face my hands so I flinch arch back too much too much hot hot sauce a scream of spice clinging through every ridge dripping down to the edge of you Mary Wemple

Hot Street Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Garage Art As you gave me the portrait of a naked lady you assured me you d found it in a closet and I agreed to play along even though I saw the similarity I proudly hung that canvas inside my spacious garage beside the two stroke tiller and all my garden toys So now it seems you come to mind each time I slide the Benz between the storage walls and politely bump against that guiding rubber ball Glynn Monroe Irby

Bee seized by the electric fields of flowers is lured via vibe to one heady bloom When you lean in I hum too Yes I saw you hover stunned I want watts to drag you in thrall like bee I lip nectar arc toward sting It all comes back to frequency flower bee this spark between you and me Tina Cardona

The Lover Vanessa Zimmer Powell

On This Last Night of The Earth On this last night of the earth this steaming humid night what will you do Collect old debts Settle old scores Rekindle Forgive On this last night of the earth when the rain scalds you in the darkness your neighbors decide to fight The male bellows like a bull If only you had cleaned the dishes this would not have happened The wife stabs him with a grimy kitchen knife and dances bloody naked around his body the air thick with wine On this last night of the earth when you are steamed inside your clothes will you steal a jet and fly above the skin of the planet watching the pine trees bristle like hairs as the sun sinks and our spinning slows On this last night of the earth when our sweat soaks the bedding will your heart be opened or closed Chuck Wemple

Energy Tree Marghi Allen

What We Brought to Burn There in flames yellow and blue the alchemy of fire

Armageddon Love Do you also sometimes crave it Not the end of everything but the adventure and you know intimacy The way they say an airplane crash touches its survivors The way disaster like a skillful perpetrator undoes you temporarily Mouth over yours unhooks your bra so suddenly you dream you re free What if you could be your own perpetrator Reach behind you one handed release every snap or hook that holds you in and back keeps you sane and safe What if nothing could stop you Jennifer Ettelson Winter 2019

Lips Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Rock a Bye Arms rocking hard hard beyond sleep rock a bye rock a bye hard like the arms of the old locomotive rocking hard as the train speeds relentless down long tracks tracks like steel cocaine laid out in lines for the mountain giant snorting clouds in the distance across tired plains while a child one with hair as tangled and pale as old corn dried in the field finds a blue flower bent in the rush of uncaring iron charging by charging and whisking up dust gnats and ashes left from the winter when she dreamed of blue flowers as the sounds of grunts mingled with the rusty crunches of her mother s bed Rushing rushing small dirty legs running small dirty hands holding fragile blue roots still dangling as reverberations of the fading locomotive settle in the weeds Lonely house stained gray with tears and recollections of white paint ignores her back turned as she arrives breathless only to stop short held still by sounds of rooting rooting of another stranger in her mother s rasping bed She whispers I love you Mama I brought you a flower And the flower with its roots starts to sigh and bow in her warm hand while the breeze takes her whisper the scent of the flower the echo of the distant train and lifts them up up up up into the still blue sky Billie Duncan Summer 2018

Impression That summer lives in electric skin tropical oil barely touching I looked good in a white bikini water skiing behind a fast boat steered by bronze muscular men wearing rose colored glasses drinking bottles of glimmering green Heineken beads of sweat pearls how the marsh shimmered how we shimmered like bands of light a fuzzy impressionism of our own lives I learned to rise above the water fly behind the boat god like and if I fell sunk into the cool caramel marsh I laughed with the reeds and snakes swirling around my lithe body and the beautiful men were glad to lend a hand that bit of touching while helping me into the boat That summer was water and heat We kept washing down the beginning of our lives and on that day when the boat got quiet I noticed the trees greener than green and then it was my first time I aimed at the knotty bark of the water oak when they handed me the gun Vanessa Zimmer Powell Summer 2019

Geometry of Chance In a day s parentheses where we are seasons and solstices distance of snowflakes to summer s breezes snaking into a man made year end we met perchance like commas in parataxis The longest night ever in which our words palpated tales of hearts lodged in a flight like no other Touch the only human language is a true song you had said In the thick of stars and ink dark at ease without clauses or condition through miles and miles magnetized our sacred geometry of a fated encounter Tell me how are you A refrain thenceforth That too we had to let go of abruptly like an unfinished journey The end of a duet now solos beyond that night s coda a perpetual vertigo roaming in the isles of our isolated fates Varsha Saraiya Shah Winter 2013

Remembrance I stood in the pews of Emmanuel Baptist Church singing Where er he leads I ll go as I stared at the altar a puzzle inscribed This do in remembrance of me Every year the baptized swallowed purple juice to represent sacred blood No wine in this Bible Belt county After church we devoured the holy body at Golden Corral a favorite feast for the faithful Where er he leads I ll go The flock stood in a long line before we tore into flesh pretended it was belly and toe of the Beloved What love I wondered could make me a cannibal A love to make me a glutton for a man s chin mouth and cheek A love to sate and leave me famished still so that I taste the hollow beneath his Adam s apple longing for more A love I could paint like the dozen disciples leaning in cheeks flushed mouth open so you can almost hear the sigh A love to make me a supplicant for his touch Hands that hold me as we dine my bed the table our love the Last Supper and every night a remembrance of the Divine Tina Cardona Winter 2014

The Game Bachelor 1 I decided to practice the abc s of dating After all there s A men B men C men and D men all online I flirted with a philosophy guru who preached the ethics of veggies practiced his daily Zen and saved baby squirrels In the pic he sat legs apart and cupped a squirrel between his thighs A patio date beneath the leaves of a live oak sealed the deal After the mandatory singles tango a chat on the Tao a fat bird flapped past me onto a limb My date then called the busboy over and began a tirade about whether the man had kicked this pigeon aside and why Because they re like rats that fly and shit everywhere answered the busboy But my date wouldn t halt his rant until the busboy actually the caf owner hollered Get out of my restaurant you mother fucker The owner then turned to me took a deep breath and gasped And I m sorry you re with such an ASSHOLE Bachelor 2 We met at an Austin Tantra class His eyes shone a backlit blue as we practiced the vulnerable stare After the primal scream and partner massage he fed me chocolate with his mouth Naturally we agreed to meet after next class Our teachers were a pair that seemed all honey and whole grain as they coached a chest to chest full body hug that we practiced in earnest The wife s blonde hair swirled round her waist and when she pressed damp against me in her tie back halter I could smell the sour The burly husband had us role play saying No My date was their close friend Night fell my phone battery died and when the couple said Sleep at our house I said Yes In the family room a young male guest hung like a mango tree walked naked All smiled the home was clothing optional Then the husband promised I could blast through my chakras if I dropped acid and had group sex After all he said We like to watch My date looked at me with please etched on his eyebrows Ah I then remembered that list of mustdo s back in Houston and braved the pre dawn black with no Google map Bachelor 3 His Facebook pic showed him standing head to knee with his butt to the lens and a Hello pose with a thigh that stretched to his shoulder as his leg wrapped behind his head A thin gold cross glinted with sweat against his tanned chest After a few hot yoga and Kombucha dates he asked me for a ride home Let me introduce you to my 7 cats he smiled on arrival His dimly lit garage was cramped with cardboard boxes and surly felines that growled inside I shrank from the cat stink Inside his house were boxes stacked floor to ceiling and countertops crammed with jars of vitamins and Yohimbe I don t actually need that you know he added in response to my glance I had already begun to reach for my keys when he confided But I m not like other yogis I m voting to keep Hillary and the Illuminati out of the White House And on my way home he texted that Liberals like me were just lambs that would all be led to the slotter Tina Cardona Winter 2015

Disinhibition Don t think I don t know how to wade the shallow bay thwarting stingrays to the place where mangroves grow out of salt and earth brilliant adaptors occulting away covens of slithery things reptile brains fighting and flighting blind fish sea snakes kaleidoscopic venomous but blunt of tooth It is night always at the root You told me not to tell so I sank that stone in this fen Kelly Ann Ellis Winter 2013

Untitled Savador Macias

My Four Inch Heels are Made of Moon They are woven from a pumpkin eve I wear them to prop me up clutch night consort with hollows I let them tell me what to wear how to be seen how to lace my hair how to catch a prince When they adorn my feet stories follow and I am carved again tall and hard a sugar pine Tonight they are a witch s lace off color glowing I leave asphalt artificial light party lamps Sisters and vampires walk the wooded glen Heels and I surrender before the tallest gnarled tree and winter moon worship her halos of cold her whisper My spikey shoes want mud leaves ivy Crave quiet I rescue them from weary arches crack the bits of us apart give my bad ass heels to the holy night and carry myself on naked feet Vanessa Zimmer Powell Winter 2017

Six Good Fires Carolyn Adams

Conflagration Flame trees now that it s hot your orange blooms make the grey walls and cement forget themselves Like you I am throwing my color into the skies so that the commonplace sun pales against my desire so that the city forgets itself in the music of superlative longing Oh orange fire that makes the crucible of summer bearable that blooms only until the rains come when fragile petals fall on damp ground blown by monsoon winds with Jolly bee cups cigarette butts and cat shit into the gutter like you I am out burning the sun to fall wet and quivering where I am spent Rebecca Oxley Summer 2015

Ceremony of Red Fishes Tonight the trout in Edda Creek Gather at the inlet Metal culvert ribbed and bent Submerged in snowmelt Tonight the trout in Edda Creek Shift to the left Align slender bodies True north The iron in their blood pulled Like filings to a magnet It s hard to see this beneath the ice Covered in dove white snow And elm leaves of ocher and crimson But at this angle the heavy oxygen In cold bright water Pushes across gills that turn scarlet Curl at the edges like rose petals in December Tonight the trout in Edda Creek Murmur and hold steady Waiting Poets gather and drop red herring In a basket of poems Murmur and hold steady Waiting for clues The Tiramisu is better in Bogota Is it possible to love a really bad pig Chuck Wemple Winter 2015

Fueling the Fire Holli May Thomas

Red Dress Yoga Inspired by Fueling the Fire painting by Holli May Thomas In that dress my walk felt like the dance before a battle I stretched my arms conduits straight into Warrior arrows at each side Arrows that carried fire from my fingertips I volleyed the first shot Next I raised my hand curved half moon over my head and stared into the palm that could remold a world Each line a rune that pointed back to my chest Would this fire cool into rivulet scars on my heart like lava on a mountainside Would my heat decoct the lovers still spooned or cast a basalt womb for the infant mouth open in eternal hunger If I am the Shakti then let my mouth be that chasm of noise and sparks and strange desire where we immolate all fear I press my hands together between my eyes between my breasts breathe still as a mountain You said your dreams were different in the wild Tina Cardona Winter 2018

Winter Incantation There in flames yellow and blue a nascent echo of underwater pulse and flapping sails Dark cracks framed in constant flux peel back one bony squeak of light in me Cleave open a remnant orange and raw a parasite still tethering me to all those parables those currencies of suffering I take a sip of hot ginger tea eat strands of sweat licorice Stare into heat and remember summer its brown waves white lipped shouts pushing at a pile of rocks old teeth pressed with white shell splayed open pearlized like the fingertips of sea nymphs water sprites who can only dream about the alchemy of fire Carrie Kornacki Winter 2017

Self Portrait in Stained Glass The map theorem says that you can color any map no matter how convoluted the contours of the country borders with only four colors Three is too few Five is unnecessary though substantially easier I think of this theorem sometimes when I recall my past selves who they were how they ended why I killed them or let them die on a bed of leaves why some got locked away in a far land a blue land or a red land exiled I think of how I could map these past selves onto my current self First I would create a pit of fire and melt them all In the heat of the flame the ash would turn to glass And as I watched the burning the glass would adhere to me a different panel for each muscle no two of the same color adjacent and I would not be burned by this the hot glass of my many past selves affixing to my body but rather I would rise from the ashes kaleidoscopic jumping a bit from the heat of the forging but nonetheless eerily calm as if those pasts were exactly how to color this present just so and as if there were now a vivid future to reach for again just so Michael Galko Winter 2018

Fire Starter Holli May Thomas

What We Weathered Summer came on a steaming bitch with heat too hot to fuck

Untitled Marghi Allen

Spring and After In the mockingbird shit of spring in backyard blue jay political palaver in wind wafted oak tassel blizzards spraying blankets of chartreuse pollen I yearned to breathe free again peacefully sleep past dawn and wash my car and earnest as those wishes were they were wished too far Summer came on a steaming bitch with heat too hot to fuck though there came a few weeks before and after that were pleasant enough to spring on springs and fall on fall before warming up for winter s ball Winston Derden Winter 2017

View from a 1960s Garden Apartment in the Bulging Shifting Bayou City A slim gray or green lizard glimpsed before it darts the cat at the windowsill or on the patio or out of sight napping rain soft hard torrential or intermittent when it s here the potted plant if it is not yet dead trees mostly deciduous but I miss tall Western pines wild birds when they want to be heard seldom seen two cheap folding chairs stained but steady the light brick wall of a neighboring home I almost always ignore a chance reflection before it has all gone down LA Merrill Summer 2018

Memorandum June 21 2015 We were supposed to meet outside the workplace of the Wildwood Project to review the decline of the numbers before summer begins The absences I excused were because of the rain flash flooding and fear of drowning in a car Yet when I said this at the Divisional Meeting I didn t get one iota of sympathy The smirks from upper management were brutal I mean brutalizing And now here I am at this restaurant to discuss why the saunas have mostly gone unclean which skews the ability to perform the acts we must commit with the drugs However no one else is here due to inclement weather The weather people with their stupid salaries based on reporting chaos The rain is in Matagorda Bay now if you believe the latest news and I know none of you live around Matagorda Bay so what will your excuse be this time I m drinking a hoppy beer here listening to another idiotic love song off satellite radio by that ex surfer Jack Johnson I m concerned that we re going down a path of self doubt that could be suicidal Has anyone ever sprayed with a power washer I know a few of you did at Dick s house Isn t it invigorating to hold down on the trigger at the risk of numbing your finger and watch the water hammer again and again on his siding What am I saying I m saying become friends with water again Hammer hard at your assigned tasks cleaning away the grit and mold of a bad attitude which will result in a happy face I ve seen great sex in the saunas from so many of you especially in the record setting month of April that caused so many positive reverberations Some of you even planted Indian paintbrush and bluebonnets in the dirt plot in front of our building So close the seeds probably cross pollinated Setting aside the current dark mumbo jumbo feelings weren t we having fun in April We hammered away by cleaning with jet water hammered hard against each other which burned smithereens of calories Wasn t it a sight to see the flurry of bodies chasing after clean towels I saw joy on your sweat beaded faces John Milkereit Summer 2015

The Grasshopper Yolanda Movsessian

Dog Almighty My dog Cowboy barks It sounds like collapse Wood on wood I met an animal trainer once at a potluck I said like you mean you train dogs Yes dogs she said I told her about Cowboy I couldn t stop myself Try this she said like it was more than I could handle Tell your animal Be quiet I learned from animal training The dog didn t change but I need therapy If I wasn t me the animal would be fine My neighbor bangs the puffy part of her fist on her bedroom window leaving rhetorical question marks Bang Bang Bang Hair spikes down Cowboy s dragon spine Jaws snap Listen Bitch he says All I really need is wings to fly from this backyard Bark bark bark bark bark Jennifer Ettelson Winter 2015

Hot Cold I smell a cigarette while in the park where I walk before 8 a m to avoid heat and sweat and there s grandma tucked into a fold of memory smiling from her hospice bed at the preacher who smells like tobacco and bourbon It is a Louisiana July Her room is refrigerated We wear layers of clothes sit or sleep in camel brown chairs become part of the somber walls the dimly lit room The preacher comes and goes day after day smiles and nods pats our shoulders and I don t like him though I try Maybe it s because of his smell My mother who is a hurricane of fear manages her mother s death from the frigid hospital and forgets everything else Her dishwasher stops working Her home air conditioner stops working Her car air conditioner stops working In the park where I smell the cigarette I am struck by the sharp green and blue of the pond and trees how it contrasts with the greyness of the cigarette and those days of extreme cold and heat Vanessa Zimmer Powell Summer 2021

The Summer of My Broken Foot The Summer of my Broken Foot The fault line on my foot brought me to my knees My mother always nagged me to pray on my knees as penance for my backtalk But I never obeyed And I never asked for help This was my Achilles heel except It was called a Jones Fracture Named for a dancing Dr Jones who mis stepped a reverse turn and snapped his bone But the good doctor saved face with the lady by giving the fracture his name Except I felt like a cast out in my Revlon red cast Thrusting my body on two sticks through produce aisles I showed no grace and got little mercy save for the grizzled fellow missing most of his teeth with tats on his fingers and one arm in a sling He still carried my bag with his one good arm And the man with no legs chair parked to the side he d mutter and cuss at the shoppers in a hurry who would push in front of the teetering woman tripod But I could only hear my coworker s words in my head One day after a bathroom break at work I thumped winded toward my office and he asked Do you feel powerless yet And every night I crawled into the easy chair dropped hands to the floor for push ups to push away the dread of turning like lamb into mutton Sit ups side crunches and legs up the wall gave me hope I could stand up to anyone Later I d collapse into bed and dream of my oldest little dog the one I call Mother

because she always seems to know what I need The only mother that did In my nightly terrors she was lost running always out of reach And every morning I woke to a wet pillow my hands still reaching But now for the hands of children small bodies wracked with cold and wrapped in foil held ransom in cages all weeping for their mothers And again I was brought to my knees but this time the chasm was in my chest Tina Cardona Untitled Summer 2019 Salvador Macias

Backbone Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Surge Death shoots a brown rattle down my spine Sea oats bend against sand There are hot flashes on the rim of the Gulf of Mexico tonight When water moves I stand still in all my big red questions all my placenta joys But what I really want to do right now is mess up the sky Watch white gusts in this aquarium eat my ink shouts into obscurity as I feel the sands alone There are hot flashes on the rim of the Gulf of Mexico tonight Carrie Kornacki Summer 2016

Caustic Houston Rush hour behind a tanker truck with a placard Danger Corrosive I can t see the road ahead Fine As long as it leads away from you Our time together The danger Temperature gage edges toward red zone a heat cocoon six lanes of asphalt exhaust a white sun and I m melted in my clothes stuck to the seat Like I was stuck to you The dash reads 103 degrees If it weren t so humid we d all combust This is hell I list my hair lean forward Rivulets traverse my back Useless tears Danger Corrosive With your acid moods caustic tongue black white diamond shape sign of a test tube dripping onto a hand leaving a void a raw edged crater But the void you left a shock initially became an oasis If people wore warning signs this one would be yours Susan Beall Summers Summer 2019

The Rush Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Heatwave won t recede unsurfable headache at the brain root A melted serpentine belt blocks steering Salud The disc of level tin amalgam sets in the hazy sky Gods of tribes once pushed from Tejas accelerate the round dance of wrath How did rangers heroes killers rogues high on tequila wrestle for lands unlivable without AC Was heat exhaustion not a thing Weren t canine paws burning Los migrantes who now cross a desert to lay bitumen in El Paso should be met for Santo Toribio s sake with water jars not smashed by border agents A tough state grannies against abortions for guns at schools Blame the heat Misaligned tensioner pulleys in hypothalamus Its dull ache is stupefying Elina Petrova Summer 2022

TITLE Craig Butterworth

More Hidden Than You Imagine a gigantic piece of frozen water moves slow through freezing waters yet no one thinks about that fact only the tip seems important and we have forgotten it was the unseen dark mass of impenetrable ice lying in wait beneath the surface that sank the unsinkable ship much like our unspoken desires roil and boil inside of us until they too freeze and all we can do is stare at the broken pieces unaware we held the ice warnings in our hands all along Laura Pena Winter 2015

Winter Heat Vanessa Zimmer Powell

The Year in Paranoia I propped the wrought iron table as a barricade against the front door What could be worse than Harvey sweeping through a city of a million times four Lately I ve been jittery around the big eared fluffy dog stuffed with a hundred percent new manufactured material The way he sits just as I arranged him on the couch glassy eyes averted so I can safely cross the hallway to the kitchen where a lizard gives birth every summer in the metal strip at the base of the back door and one that had never seen the sun fell into my blouse hell that s why I never use the back door anymore Saba Z Husain Winter 2017

Resilience My skin this much stuffed sack weighted with bones blood bile not to mention pain depression in a bed where I wake and think Do I have to live another day My life a derailed junk drawer stuck open filled with scribbles neither typed nor thrown away snippets that might be trite perhaps profound Who s to say I m tied to tumble down artifacts crammed in bins Art Facts Ticket stubs lipstick lint poems propaganda letters from a friend who is dead Cursive illegible Message Cryptic I will never understand Yet still I rise rise like flies buzzing shit An obsolete elevator where lovers once fucked Sprinklers in summer Steam deserting hot concrete or a busted radiator Mud puddle vapor The pissed off dog dazed souring dregs of July Helicopters life flight Dumbo Helium Bread I rise because I am light however tethered Buoyant I the cave that gapes for waves invites high tide Ravine of peril and pearls ravenous for divers to dive flail find I rise to eat eat to live Life is louder than death is whose dirge drones on too faint to drown this thrum of heart wingbeat of a butterfly called to sojourn a path she can t remember but knows she s come home when she arrives finds a mountain sunlit in winter sleeps mates More than the sum of my moving parts I am that wind driven starling balloon shaped heart Standard issue vessel commandeered by blood When will fails I rise Kelly Ann Ellis Winter 2021

What a Cactus Does What a cactus does best is wait sun burned green and sharpy Holding space to tickle the wind but the wind doesn t care It blows along never listening for a song Wherever the sound goes in the sweeping dust it doesn t snag on the prickles of the splayed guard post holding onto secret sighs holding drops holding them back holding them deep under the skin so ripe and strong you won t hear its song A cactus only cries in the fog condensed tears drop to roots wide cast and shallow That s how it grows But when it rains nothing happens it can t take the flood It waits out the deluge and jabs needles slicing wind Not a terrible thing if you never hear it sing Bucky Rhea Summer 2019

Cactusmini Yolanda Movsessian

Solstice Dances December sun in this coastal prairie feels as near and blinding as on peaks of Mount Logan in June My mind oscillates between ecstasy and lethargy A dance of red and charcoal leaves reminds me of Leonardo s chalks ink of oak apples amber sap in gum arabic the urge to paint without talent the light whose speed refracts in the blue fluid of days your peaks my troughs and vice versa the combined waves that cancel each other At least there is sincerity Things to come Only tenderness I look at reflections in water and see you when you re not near I gather mulch scattered by squirrels and count late rosebuds I look at clear sky and see eight buzzards and the silver red bird of American Airlines Monday Sirens of firetrucks on Westheimer Smoke from burning leaves rubber impeachment news When buzzards turn their blackness to the sun they join the round dance half golden as if they were hawks Elina Petrova Winter 2019

Purple Cactus Yolanda Movsessian

What Seasoned our Discontent I sign petitions for what s ruined which is judging by the petitions practically everything

This is Not a Party Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Solar The Roanoke Chowan News Herald reports the Woodland Town Council rejected a new solar farm after residents expressed concerns that it would suck up all the energy from the sun One resident a retired Northampton County science teacher reportedly said she was concerned that photosynthesis would not happen after she said she observed areas near solar panels where plants were brown and dead because they did not get enough sunlight ABC news 2015 The world burns for us We grab it by the ankles and wait for dimes to jangle out of its pockets Sorry bum and we shake it out on the sidewalks and rejoice It is ours for the taking You damn my oil but it is rich and deep and every year we learn to shake deeper into the quivering rocks for more You damn my coal but I believe in Santa Claus and every year I plunder coal deep from my stocks You damn my rivers but this world roils with my tides and the currents flow out clear sharp and cleaner than life You you wait for the sun to light up your nights and propel your trucks and turbines and you wait and you wait some more North Carolina and I know the sun is dangerous and the grounds around your great blue panels grow dry and the grass shrivels brown when you suck fire from the sun So where will you go when there s no more sunlight Secret I have my plans ready And you will never shake them out of me Bucky Rhea Winter 2015

Heat Planet Earth and Texas Recent History and a Rant The first Covid Winter was warmer than normal Then came the Republican Malfeasance Big Freeze even snow enchanted Yankees hated Survivalists hated not having their furnaces Romantics got sick of the dark This proves there s no such thing as Global Warming the stupid people said Drip Drip Drip No more polar ice shelves Drop Drop Drop No more glaciers in Glacier National Park Glug Glug Glug Atlantis to come No luxury Cruises to Alaska cuz the cruise lines cratered to the Rothschilds Hillary Clinton NAFTA Commie International Conspiracy But there was still the Alaska Highways State Ferry from Ketchikan to Bellingham And if people taking it remarked that what used to be wall after wall of blue ice was now and soon a series of dusty arroyos Gosh they must have been hypnotized Who says there were ever glaciers south of the Arctic Circle I mean where s the evidence Oh Jesus Take a geology walk As to the freeze can it be true what Science says that meteorological instability is characteristic of transitional periods Or is the Q Anon Shaman a better authority than say Bill Nye Certainly he has bigger horns More and more heat in the water Gigantic Hurricanes to come Heat Heat Less snow Less water for the West Coast Forest fires Major Extinctions Jump back Smokey the Bear Grow some gills In the heat of the New Normal beachfront property in Ozona Texas may no longer be the punchline of a joke John Gorman Summer 2021

Ocean s Lament I have seven given names but no borders I have endless salts and many nameless dead on my floors I have an understanding with the moon a special love with no direct touch My face betrays me while my body lies still and deep The beasts within me once so simple now so ornate would like it cooler but they do not know how to plead other than dying I share this problem How can I voiceless the moon voiceless the fish voiceless plead Our two footed masters in their own Genesis and other myths were commanded to take care Appointed stewards they steward not The ice melts and I grow larger more unruly as if Poseidon were still around to command me when he harried that hapless Greek from shore to shore Strange how their Gods disappear when their belief does I claim more of those shores rising I raise grand storms in loud voiceless anger Still they do not stir Still I rise Michael Galko Winter 2021

Newport Beach Carolyn Adams

Wait Five Minutes Wet rages in red bands across the radar The sky does not cry it vomits A feeding frenzy of flame devours dead wood Creeping lines redden dry grass and tinder The South drowns the West is in cinders It s only summer Across the North heatwaves reverse the white weight of winter unmercifully relieved by the tailings of hurricanes flood and swelter Everywhere engines stoke industry steam and smoke continually rising burn a hole in the roof of the world as we secede from nature Winston Derden Summer 2021

Heat As kids in Denver watching wrestling we didn t know the difference between heat and canned heat between the noises of a real crowd and the boos jeers and screams piped in to enhance the experience make the moment in the ring seem more electric We believed what we watched was real coming to us from Minneapolis or Kansas City or that strange land so far away Texas We didn t understand cheap heat either the heel bating the audience with incendiary comments antagonizing them into a frenzy of venomous hostility Baron von Raschke goose stepping into the brain claw calling Billy Red Cloud a dirty low down Injun Sergeant Slaughter sympathizing with Iraq during the Gulf War insulting the American troops on Thanksgiving Day Bobby The Brain Heenan discrediting Olympic wrestlers as wimps baiting the crowd into chanting Weasel Weasel Heels worked the audience into blind rage Babyfaces made us cheer in delight Classic good versus evil Light versus darkness At 12 we didn t know about angles blading false finish a crimson mask hot tags potatoes and receipts We didn t understand that wrestling and TV and especially politics are about act more than action image more than imagination fabrication more than factuality that someone s intent could dupe us into believing there isn t an ulterior motive for his apparent lack of any human civility Craig Butterworth Summer 2016

Untitled Salvador Macias

Discipline in the Classroom Spare the Rod and Spoil the Teacher That s right get out the belt the one they use to whip you with Call it Accountability Fold it and crack it like Daddy used to do Tell the truth he d say It ll be OK and This hurts me more than it hurts you Handy phrases overused and by the way untrue Always wiser to play it safe this you knew Out right lie every time What could be worse than the hiding you were going to get Only the words you could never ever utter Whatever you do don t spit truth Kelly Ann Ellis Winter 2016

Before the Storm In the tunnel of mighty oaks under branches entwined into emerald pentagrams they jog on fine gravel that crunches in a private polite way like old money Lightweight players wrapped around biceps beat per minute tunes in sweat proof earbuds trim Ivy League youth unlike kids in my ward where chicken scents mingle with ethers from the Lyondell refinery and uncle Cash s fence that again collapsed won t be fixed for years Sistere sista It s solstice salt on our shiny skin Siri says the heat index is 106 plunge into Mecom fountain This tofu Life Fitness world is moot when jogging in the heated ozone It s getting sultry Do you recall the old thriller Take Shelter the scene of a psychotic episode where a construction worker standing under the tornado cloud stares at oily raindrops in his palm Right past the George Floyd murals on a store that sells rainbow cakes with Aripiprazole there s the field of pump jacks that reminds me of that scene Rain like fresh motor oil Elina Petrova Summer 2021

Storm Vanessa Zimmer Powell

I Want Guns I want guns to turn upon themselves back to ore to mineral to water that crests on the river s edge with light that scatters like sun on a Monet canvas I want that ore to be a ring for a wedding in spring the frame for the table that does not sink beneath the cake the glint in the microphone the best man holds as he raises a toast to the groom I want the gun s grip to whirl in bicycle spokes or boom box speakers that explode bump ba bump ba bump as the rider pedals at midnight with his crew I want the hammer to mold beneath the desk and cradle comic books textbooks and teacher s note home I want the barrel to curve into the orchestra s horns the metal of First Chair or be the president s head on the coin that buys the brownies at a bake sale I want the grip s safety to flatten into the latch of the closet that hid Ms Soto s first grade students I want the sights to be the lens in Adam s glasses so he is blinded by her love before she dies I want the trigger formed into prison bars deadbolts and the handle of the latrine for each criminal senator that voted for a concealed carry hand gun law I want the muzzle chiseled into prison keys and the Sandy Hook parents as wardens Tina Cardona Winter 2017

When Life Gets Blurry Carolyn Adams

On Trust Thirst and the Art of Staying Afloat My mother taught me to float She said it was a matter of trust You panic you sink Just rest Let the water buoy you up Somewhere south of here a river a border and a would be swimmer converge man woman boy girl it s hard to tell from this distance Having traversed a desert to slake their thirst boots worn thin spirit long longing to dive glide hide find a portal below the star spangled sky they come upon the river baked dry under an indifferent sun So go on run stumble trudge mud eyes open for dogs drones guns Trust no one Miles away I float an opulent pool under a Houston buttermilk night It s hurricane season We are afraid this ark we ve built might leak Great waters don t know Memorial Drive from Telephone Road All are equal finally when the rains come oceans rise rivers go dry In Galveston the Gulf hospitable hosts microcosms of toxins that don t know they are poison Like us they re trying to get by Stay alive Thrive Once we slithered out of rivers Still life rushes forth a push a gush of fluid blood our bodies but breathing bags of sentience water salt We float oceans of verdant dust adrift with politicians corporations hostile nations Children Who will fund our trust Love thine enemy Love us Kelly Ann Ellis Summer 2022

The Innocents on My Street I live in a major city in Texas in a craftsman bungalow built in 1926 situated half a block from an elementary school Each day parents and children pass along the white picket fence in front of my house walking to and from school the way I did sixty years ago What could appear more wholesome and innocent more Normal Rockwell Every day a letter or postcard arrives in my mailbox We will pay cash for your house Well to do young parents make over the value offers to live in this revitalized neighborhood as enormous two story houses replace small cottages They want their kids to attend this school that is winning awards for its achievements in educating the young But this is a state of open carry concealed carry permitless carry How long will these innocents be safe How long before someone walks past my home with a gun Or maybe people walk past my house with guns every day After all they don t have to have a permit to obtain one They can legally conceal it Texas has a governor and a host of politicians indebted to the National Rifle Association In a world where actions speak louder than words they support increasingly lenient gun laws As though firearms were their most precious possessions Sandi Stromberg Summer 2022

Was Here Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Weather Passion Politics Food This is a confession because I m a confessional person It s not that I m honest It s just that I m lonely Loneliness moves me how the sun moves weather Heat is a variable that wind and rain correct The lonelier I am the more honest I circle in orbits growing smaller At fifty food is gravity I can t tell if it s my body or my life that makes me so hungry I sign petitions for what s ruined which is judging by the petitions practically everything and my donation will really make a difference I vote straight ticket for people I know the way I know the stars not their names or purpose but their presence I believe in the passion I see on screens he takes her from behind she grabs her titties the way I used to believe that aliens love and want us and someday will save us Jennifer Ettelson Winter 2014

Freedom Free Dumb Carolyn Adams

I Can t See Past Midnight I force push ups 99 degrees in the shade and wonder What fuckery is this Then I see white posies fit for a first wedding They crown a mantis shaded thicket feather up and ignore the heat wave I raise my hands to catch the bride s bouquet but dumbbells press high in my palms instead Morning glories purse mouths for the night a modest pretense Their thirsty tendrils sneak toward my torso streaked with sweat I wrap my hands around the battle ropes now fail to master a wave and rail at the Doomsday Clock 100 seconds from midnight Tiny violet half moons with bright butter colored stamens stare up damp from my tears that fall A mosquito sucks from my cheek mid Burpee and as I curse the sting I remember the quack grass that pushed through my ex husband s bed in yesterday s nightmare I recoil at the dread that suffused me from looking back at something dead I raise my hands jump and drop jump and drop fnally lie spent and remember I can t see past midnight but I can reshape like clay this body today this future now dream a new kind of lovemaking for this earth my home Tina Cardona Summer 2022

What Rose with the Smoke Spikes and ridges come into view because of the light that slices through them Bonfire Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Still Life When I was a tree climbing child I wanted it all to go faster When I was forty two and hung over I wanted it all to end Now I m a decade older possibly wiser and I just want a slow sensory glide with kitchen smells and sounds and lingering tastes I want your hands and your glance I want these to last however long we will endure Michael Galko Summer 2022

Prismatic Songs After viewing Art by Holli May Thomas My blue bike pauses to watch sunset married to gravity paired with a vintage bell Speed bumps provide a meter unleashing free verses They are circlets of stars glinting fireflies cycling at comets speed dear painter like your canvas doors boundless green and indigo Your goddesses too made from motion I wear their shawls and curls in my hair s silver Fire made with snowflakes Dear painter tell us how you stoke yours in the fiery strokes making these prismatic songs Such fuel for our bodies weary after daily digital chatter a shared wasteland Yet the city rings in each dusk with grackles orchestra Their lyrics garland the treetops diving mid air to high rises settling for all things electric unburdening hurts hunger road s habitual hiccups to fuel your paintbrushes On this cold solstice night they take me home Varsha Saraiya Shah Winter 2018

Locked and Loaded Holli May Thomas

Traveling on Fire At the airport this afternoon the security agent with a bun on his head wore a navy shirt with Hamilton written in block letters And the woman who inspected backpacks had smoked eyes as the conveyor belt whirled She shook her head when asked about belts and shoes In the boarding area another woman revealed a raging puppet with a black hat who sang Amazing Grace She found a volunteer to lip sync God Bless America only she lit a match and flames erupted from the volunteer s lips And a little girl in her pink ballerina outfit twirled around with her backpack until she escaped her mother crying until a stuffed monkey arrived This is how the journey began for the hot poet The airplane soared from the middle coast to Reno as he sat at the window next to the wing with passengers reading electrons from their electronic tablets or playing video games The hot poet s pen had nothing shocking to say His notebook never lit up Armed with drink coupons the hot poet felt like saying Hey I want a Blood Mary or he would ask loudly I have extra drink coupons would anyone like one That s how the hot poet wanted to break the ice Passengers loosening up alcohol running down the aisle Would anyone hear the hot poet Hamilton looked ready to star as Hamilton in that famous musical but just hiding his enflamed urges behind the podium ready to stake his claim at singing and acting better than marking initials on boarding passes The inspector looked troubled as she glanced from one bag to the next but she was just concealing her desire to hike into the crater of an active volcano and the hot poet was almost positive that the little ballerina girl wanted to ask about him about his day job his never ending love of juggling spreadsheets overlooking the freeway which he would have explained as surely as Tarzan would have slung words from a vine to describe the jungle She would just have to open the sliding glass door with her wand to listen John Milkereit Winter 2018

Leap Carolyn Adams

My Ding a Ling When I run the vacuum I hear a phone not a cell phone ring tone but an old school ding a ling the kind I heard when I was almost home my stack of books cutting notches in my arm loaded down with all I meant to do but didn t It is a hard core tinkle a thrill like watching a girl who can really throw a ball Maybe it s for me Maybe it s him whoever he is this time whatever the manifestation my wildest dream brings My ding a ling Everybody sing I want to play with my ding a ling a ling My vacuum resonates in the empty room a conduit of cleanliness or the hope of it Sometimes I hear crying or the sound of wind rummaging sometimes laughter canned Besides being haunted the relationship is simple The vacuum and I do a job clear dust the odd bug corpse Sometimes something precious is lost forever but mostly what s unwanted A clean slate is temporary but it s something And maybe cleanliness over time is cumulative and this can be a kind of virtue Jennifer Ettelson Besmehn Summer 2016

Madonna s Ass The online trolls call her a granny an irrelevant cringe inducing aging hag who should stop wearing whore s clothes and act her age which is 64 by the way Now the latest internet suck fest is that she got butt implants and they look terrible Why oh why does Madonna think she can continue to show off her fishnet strapped ass in public I m sure there is a long winded philosophical explanation about women and their right to do what they want etc Yes all that is fine and good But the simple answer is Bitch I m Madonna She s earned the right to shake her ass fighting at every turn to be treated as an equal in an industry run by people who hold your talent creativity and productivity for ransom So Madonna shake it twerk it show it off You worked long hard hours for that ass You ve paid for it in spades You are not a wannabe trying to stay relevant You are what I want to be a ferocious takes zero fucks kind of woman who says Bring it I will still be here long long long after your shriveled sorry saggy ass is gone Laura Pena Winter 2016

Damaged Middle Fingers Are Not a Big Deal Really After It Won t Kill Me to be Sad Again by Diane Seuss Damaged middle fingers are not a big deal really Yes that s her favorite finger for shooting the bird But she can shoot just fine from under the dashboard Yes these are her favorite fingers for pleasuring herself But she only does that on her birthday and Halloween So we still have a couple of months to get ready I am Trigger I get a steroid shot when I get stuck That s funny the cure for a trigger finger is a shot My twin on the right is Mallet She wears a brace Fun fact a mallet finger is also called a baseball finger That s funny because she hasn t played with balls in a very looooong time Forget about first base Some might wince and whine This finger fuckery blows But you know not her She is planning a puppet show Margo Stutts Toombs Summer 2022

Craig Butterworth

Cento What Kind of Fuckery Is This after Ada Lim n and Tony Hoagland It is the kind of place where the sky is white with June s teeth Air is ash and woodsmoke A river oak knows we were conned for something It is when your intimacy coordinator s mouth presses against your ear thicker now the summer muck leans lips out they of the same sky white It is the sort of feeling within How your creaking body empty isn t jump started by your fight director You can take all these pain relievers read the poetry of Keats swim water under you so deep It is touching a calm flag of surrender pulled taut in the waning afternoon It is trying to take the lima bean from a baby s mouth and does not take you to it These are examples of misfortune It is when a lawyer stands beside your car removes sunglasses looks up at the sky and marries you claiming a clean slate of secrets knows how to carry you A flush of color from a dying tree doesn t help and neither does aspirin or crack cocaine A bucket full of lawyer jokes won t make you laugh out loud This is an example of injustice It is drab grass watching a dog suffer heat stroke and you weep That moment when you step away from the party after looking for what s left of green and yet the darkness is a big beautiful face It is when images appear distorted in suburbia and you realize you aren t large from this distance It s Houston any leaves this month tuck themselves in the gulf Any time the warm breast of a dental hygienist who leans to get access to your plaque is available you realize you re having a potential winner dinner dream with your mother You come to realize you are not speeding through this belly barrel round summer Examples of remembering cooler days have leaked from your memory banks fed down a feeder road No U turn John Milkereit Summer 2022

A Poem for Stones A labor of eons these stones composed and meticulous as hack and scatter hewn of torrent trickle polished and thrust upon upswell of ancient crust and heaving tableaux Sea banisher in turns ashen verdant fiery animator of origami armies peeled like pages from Gaia s cloistered earthen diary A shutter click instant these eyes mind project anthropic shapes and plinths primordial altared slates stone labyrinths and untoppled iconic forms that rise and march and recite lost epics inscrutable and wise as theosophic saints The glance that breaks the spell and justifies a thousand languid dreams a drop a flash a plague of hail that scatters fools and when it abates at last demands a fabled kiss Joseph Machado Summer 2015

The Perfect Bouquet I d like a bloom that says This is a tentative opening but hopeful a stem that says I don t know how long I can keep this up Blossoms that say I m hypoallergenic quite safe to be around Maybe more than a few of those Ferns and greenery full and lush baby s breath may be presumptuous No arrangements with thorns I bleed easily should the flowers be returned And please perhaps for later an additive for the water that won t let buds decay Winston Derden Winter 2019

A Love Poem to Nuclear Fusion On the Occasion of the Start up of the Wendelstein 7X Stellerator Reactor at the Max Planck Institute A potato peel of starry stuff As hard to hold as love s embrace When gravity is not enough Can magnets hold our hearts in place When gases noble as fair Helios Quicken their dance from slow to fast And gyrations grow so wild and furious That their gaunt electric veil is lost Ten million Kelvins will never do To describe the rage that is unleashed And a billion Teslas still too few Whose frozen coils contain the beast And along its track electrons race Careening down their Mobius strip That seething ember protons trace And join together for the trip Beside their bond all else seems weak The love that stirs each cosmic flame If we could but do it on the cheap Our world would never be the same Joseph Machado Winter 2015

Chrysalis Inspired by Limitless by Holli Mae Thomas and Sunflower Sutra by Alan Ginsberg Stunted was the word she used to describe how she grew pruned and groomed cruel rule for the unruly If it offends thee cut it off wholly unholy holy un wholly holey holey holey Wrapped in remnants ragged barely warm swaddled in a cocoon she did not could not choose she grew in spite not quite right right Right what went wrong Write what went wrong Pen the promise of wholeness Paint the possibility her flawless body a butterfly a sunflower bursts forth arches toward not mere warmth but sky on fire She cries Look at me I am whole as I can be Kelly Ann Ellis Winter 2018

Exiting the Ashes Holli May Thomas

Limitless after the painting Limitless by Holli Mae Thomas It was not the water It was the water The newness of floating hush of being under swaddled in liquid The distancing from words an awareness of breath a lightness the dappling sun The thrill of staying under and the grateful re appearing The flooding of joy the exhaling of sorrow It was celebration and the knowledge that it wasn t too late It was the exhilaration of being a woman Saba Z Husain Winter 2018

Beach Poets Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Because of the Light My eyes rise true north for sun salutations but my face travels south with age A small sinkhole deepens in my cheek obituary for a tooth pulled decades ago I remember the sweet gum tree truncated by my ex a crime he committed like all the others when I wasn t looking I returned home to find an empty socket in the earth Nothing left but sawdust and resin to pool around the edges A chorus of frogs gathered that night a ring around a promise and sang to the pit The Sundays of my life slide crash one upon the other soundlessly like the tree s desecration And I recall a friend now dead that I fumed at for years because he knew my ex s lies and kept his secrets My friend now quaffed by the ether except for photos poems and a memory of how he sighed in appreciation Anne Rice and Vicente Fernandez walked arm and arm into dark matter too this week singing Y volver volver volv e e e r a tus brazos otra vez but not even Anne can return this time My dog a little mother who reminds me to sleep snores all day from old age I cling to the sound and her scent of unwashed fur I dump a pile of seed for the cardinals that I know the squirrels will steal I wrap the requisite ornament for workplace Secret Santa practice the soft soap I will deliver I notice my Sweet Olive and Pine trees deepen their hue Spikes and ridges come into view because of the light that slices through them Tina Cardona Winter 2021

Still I wear the air like a wet dress while mosquitoes bite my ankles a funk in my blood like hot sauce the way it touches something exhausted A neighbor still steers the lawnmower drawing one green box inside another boxes growing smaller while the clouds are still charcoal drawings on a pinkified sky Walking I trail behind my son riding his bike home from his piano lesson with my mom and he s still 13 and we re all still alive Still the bats that survived the freeze after the flood the drought and the years of Covid 19 flutter like falling leaves through the evening The rhododendrons still blossom silhouette the sky like bouquets of bone and close to home I climb the sidewalk broken into stair steps by roots of old oaks that extend their arms across the street toward other old oaks Their touching more tenuous and substantial than we can imagine if we could still imagine anything everything Jennifer Ettelson Winter 2021

Sunset Vanessa Zimmer Powell

Meet the HOT Poets and Artists Featured in this Issue of Equinox Carolyn Adams poetry and art have been published in Steam Ticket Cimarron Review Subjectiv Dissident Voice Evening Street Review and Blueline Magazine among others She is the author of four chapbooks and a full length volume is forthcoming from Fernwood Press As editor of her new imprint Red Shoe Press she is publishing the 2023 Oregon Poetry Calendar She has been twice nominated for both Best of the Net and a Pushcart prize Marghi Allen a native Texan attended the University of Kansas with a major in English and then went to law school at Golden Gate University in San Francisco A songwriter since the age of fifteen she is also a singer musician poet and an artist Before becoming a lawyer Marghi worked as a floral designer in New York and San Francisco where she had her own floral design business as well as a blues band called Hired Gun Marghi who has performed solo for nearly fifty years has released five CDs of original music and is working on her sixth She has been married to her husband Mick for more than 40 years Craig Butterworth has worked as a personal trainer for Dwayne The Rock Johnson stunt double for Bob Denver and head writer on Designing Women He spends his days tormenting stray cats by speaking only in French His artwork can be found at artbybutter com Or you can see him most months at First and Second Saturday Art Markets Tina Cardona believes in the generative power of poetry to heal As a clinical social worker registered yoga teacher and poet she spends her days obsessing on how to combine creativity health movement and expansive states of mind in order to help people achieve joy in living Tina studied poetry and art at the University of Houston before switching to social work as a profession She now coaches educators on how to connect with students helps students learn to self regulate emotions and advocates for both students and staff on the front lines of education Besides publishing and performing her own work Tina has been involved in Houston s poetry scene for over 20 years having co hosted multiple events including hotpoet s solstice gatherings On weekends Tina can be found caring for her three dogs spending time with her life partner and her talented daughter and hatching ideas with Kelly over cocktails Madeleine Castator served as editor for the first two issues of Equinox and is the graphic designer of this issue They contain multitudes and are currently employed studying them as a microbiology research laboratory technician at Baylor College of Medicine Their poetry has appeared in Aionian their photography and art has graced Equinox and their fiction has a growing online presence and following They enjoy reading and writing in all genres and are currently working on a screenplay

In addition to being a persistent hotpoet Solstice contributor Winston Derden s poetry is published in Barbaric Yawp Soft Cartel Plum Tree Tavern Backchannels Pure Slush LOVE forthcoming in Pure Slush MARRIAGE New Reader Magazine MONO Book of Matches and numerous anthologies He holds a BA and an MA from the University of Texas Austin Billie Duncan is a popular performance artist and the author of four books including Beneath the Desk acquired by Brown University for inclusion in the Harris Collection of Poems and Plays and Requiem for the Plastic Clown which won the Weasel Press Chapbook Competition As a journalist photographer and artist she has published work in numerous journals anthologies magazines and newspapers With degrees in theater and a background in music she also sings her own songs plays guitar and performs poetry at venues where she is known as The Fabulous Billie Duncan A resident of Houston TX Duncan devotes much of her time to various social and political causes using her voice in the interest of social justice Kelly Ann Ellis lives and writes in Houston TX She holds an MA in English Literature from the University of Houston where she currently teaches A member of Poets in the Loop Kelly is the co founder of hotpoet a literary nonprofit and small press Her work has been included in several juried poetry festivals and has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies Her collaborative cinepoems have been featured in the REELpoetry festival for three years running and her poetry was showcased in the Houston Fringe Festival in 2019 Her fiction placed 2nd in The Short Story Show s 2020 contest and was re released in a best of podcast in 2021 She was twice nominated in 2020 for a Pushcart prize and Lamar University Literary Press is publishing her upcoming collection The Hungry Ghost Diner Jennifer Ettelson Houston Texas is an appreciator celebrator creator who will write dance act sing cook fire spin and do just about anything that offers the experience of greater aliveness Michael J Galko is a scientist and a poet who lives and works in Houston TX Michael writes both free verse long form poetry and Japanese inspired short forms He is the owner creator and curator of Haiku House a residential art project less than a mile from downtown Houston Haiku House has several hundred wood burned and painted original haiku on the structure and fence and in the yard Michael was a Puschart Prize nominee in 2019 and a finalist in the 2021 Naugatuck River Review narrative poetry contest His poems and haiku have appeared in dozens of literary and haiku themed journals over the past few years John Gorman Professor Emeritus of Literature at UH Clear Lake lives in Galveston There he has gotten very old and crotchety under the Texas sun Nevertheless his political and cultural views are it seems to him correct He loves interacting with the Hot Poets in any capacity His poems have appeared widely int the U S and more narrowly in Canada and are collected in three chapbooks For many years he directed the now inactive Galveston Poets Roundtable

Saba Z Husain is a Pakistani American poet from Houston Her work appears in Sequestrum Barrow Street Bangalore Review Cimarron Review Texas Review Dallas Review Aleph Review Bellevue Review Equinox Hot Poets Synkoniciti Kill Line Anklebiters Press Southern Poetry Review Vol VIII Texas and elsewhere Her poem Texas Tag won the 2022 Hot Poets Spring Equinox Contest Saba was a finalist for the 2021 and 2020 X J Kennedy Poetry Prize and received the 2014 Laurene Pouncey Award at Houston Poetry Fest She holds a day job and serves on the board of Mutabilis Press Saba is a devoted daughter mother and grandmother Glynn Monroe Irby was integral to hotpoet from its early days on when he shared his expertise to design the graphics that we used in our promotional materials and anthology covers In fact he assisted us with every event benefit fundraiser and party we ever threw Glynn participated in all the hotpoet solstice celebrations as long for as his health held out He is remembered by his friends for his kindness generosity humor knowledge keen attention to detail and deep appreciation for beauty He blessed us all with his enormous talent as a writer editor designer and artist We lost Glynn in 2020 following an illness but his help continued even after his passing as it was his financial gift that allowed us to begin our work as a literary nonprofit We strive to honor Glynn s spirit and memory in these pages and in all of hotpoet s endeavors Carrie Kornacki is a teacher poet and fiction writer She has a B S in Journalism from Ohio University and is a veteran English Language Arts Teacher with years of teaching in the U S and in Suzhou China She also has taught Creative Writing for Writers in the Schools Houston coordinating and launching several youth chapbook projects In 2015 and 2016 she was the recipient of The Lucille Johnson Clark Memorial Award awarded to the top Houston Poetry Fest juried poet who teaches public school Ms Kornacki has been a featured reader throughout Houston and has been published in various literary journals Joseph Machado is a poet currently residing in Houston TX where he often writes and performs Joe has enjoyed and written poetry all his adult life but became active in live poetry while residing in London in the last decade Joe is a PhD engineer industrial scientist and business professional in the cleantech sector Currently he is engaged globally in plastic waste elimination and recycling projects Joe s love for science and the language of technology is a frequent theme in his poetry Joe published his first book of poetry Soup with the Moon Breaking Rules Publishing in 2018 Juan Salvador Macias Sal was born and raised in the border town of Laredo TX In 2003 he arrived Houston TX by dubious circumstances where he discovered his first poetry reading and shared his written word He was embraced by the writing community and has since been published in various poetry publications Sal has also pursued visual arts music and performance art His philosophy is Give me a bucket of broken glass and I ll make you something Currently Sal is preparing to release his first collection of poetry L A Merrill s poems have appeared in the Texas Poetry Calendar Synkroniciti and Equinox among others Merrill was a juried poet for the 2017 Houston Poetry Fest and a featured reader at the Poetry Fix series in Houston in 2018 She emceed Public Poetry virtual readings in 2020 and 2021 Merrill won a Rowan Foundation scholarship to the 2021 Boldface Conference for Emerging Writers In 2022 she became a poetry editor for table FEAST literary magazine Merrill is a pirate poet weekend O G as Kelly says and she even has a shirt that says Be who you argh

John Milkereit resides in Houston Texas working as a mechanical engineer and has completed a M F A in Creative Writing at the Rainier Writing Workshop His work has appeared in various literary journals including Naugatuck River Review Panoply San Pedro River Review and The Ekphrastic Review His next full length collection of poems A Place Comfortable with Fire will be published by Lamar University Literary Press in 2023 Thantcyn Nyan is in his own words wannabe poet artist wading through the muck of this world Yolanda Movsessian is an Armenian born in Iran who currently lives in Houston TX She spends her free time writing drawing playing with her camera and plotting ways to steal her daughter s beautiful velveteen cat Her short stories have won Mississippi Review s 2020 prize for best fiction finalist for Kallisto Gaia Press Chester B Himes Memorial Short Fiction Prize as well as top 3 of first round of NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2021 Her writing art and photography can be found in various places such as Synkroniciti Defunkt and Equinox Magazines Recently her cine poem waxing gibbous 97 illuminated a collaboration with Filmmaker Mitchell Collins won Judges first prize in the ReelPoetry Festival 2022 Just out of the Air Force Rebecca Oxley made the acquaintance of poets at the last ever open mic at Downtown Grounds a coffee house that shuttered weeks later From them she learned how to make image matter She went on to graduate from the University of Houston with a BA in Creative Writing and is currently an MFA candidate in poetry at Texas State University She is a mother grandmother and dog mom She s had poems published in Defunkt Magazine Glass Mountain The Ocotillo Review The Texas Poetry Calendar and in the anthology Enchantment of the Ordinary She is co founder of Poetry Around a monthly online generative writing workshop and reading She currently has poems forthcoming in the anthology Chaos Dive Reunion by Mutabilis Press Laura Pe a was born and raised in Houston Texas She holds a BA in English Literature and an MA in Education Currently she is a primary bilingual teacher in Houston She has been published in Diversity from the Austin International Poetry Festival Houston Poetry Fest anthology Boundless from the Valley International Poetry Festival Texas Poetry Calendar and various other anthologies both in print and on line She was the featured poet at the April 2018 Valley International Poetry Festival in McAllen Tx Laura received the Lucille Johnson Clark Memorial Award at the 2018 Houston Poetry Fest that is awarded annually to the top juried poet who is also a K 12 classroom teacher Laura has been a featured poet at Inprint s First Friday and Public Poetry She has performed as part of Invisible Lines most recently for Welcome to the American Freakshow

Until 2007 Elina Petrova lived in Ukraine and worked in engineering management She published two poetry books in English Aching Miracle 2015 and Desert Candles 2019 and one in her native Russian language Elina s poems have been published in Notre Dame Review Texas Review Chicago Quarterly Review North Dakota Quarterly Southwestern American Literature Porter House Review Pedestal Magazine California Quarterly FreeFall Canada Ocotillo Review Poetry of the American Southwest Melancholy Hyperbole The Ekphrastic Review anthologies by presses of Sul Ross State University Lamar University and elsewhere Elina was Austin International Poetry Fest s Featured Poet in 2019 and received the runner up award in the 2020 national contest of Public Poetry Wicked Wit Bucky Rea is trapped in Houston You ve probably been misspelling his name all these years Varsha Saraiya Shah a bilingual poet from Houston authored Voices a poetry chapbook by Finishing Line Press in 2016 and is currently working on a full length manuscript Her poetry has appeared in journals and anthologies such as Borderlands BorderSenses Cha Eco poetry Gulf Coast Echoes of the Cordillera Ekphrastic Review Mutabilis Press Penguin Random House India A Global Anthology of Poetry Under Lockdown Right Hand Pointing Skylark Publications UK Soundings East UT Press Poetry Photography etc and upcoming in a Pippa Ran Books UK publication Converse Contemporary English Poetry by Indians Her work has featured on local public radio and been staged in a multi language multi century dance program Poetry in Motion by Silambam Houston Sandi Stromberg attended her first solstice event in 2022 definitely an experience to be repeated twice a year in the future Before arriving in Houston where putting down roots in gumbo earth has been challenging but worthwhile she led a nomadic life in five different countries Her poetry has been nominated three times for a Pushcart and twice for Best of the Net Recent publications include Panoply The Ekphrastic Review MockingHeart Review San Pedro River Review easing the edges a collection of everyday miracles and in Dutch in the Netherlands in Brabant Cultureel Susan Beall Summers Palacios TX has served on the board for Austin International Poetry Festival hosted Texas Nafas poetry show on Channel Austin and has been a featured poet at events across America Publishing credits include Ilya s Honey Di Verse City Borderlands Heroine Chic Crab Fat Cattails Frog Pond etc Currently she teaches high school and enjoys life on the coast She has a full length collection and chapbook She can be reached at tidalpoolpoet gmail com

Holli May Thomas grew up with tall pine trees the sound of cicadas and the wonder of moonlight in Texas She enjoys exploring themes of the good Earth through paint collage textiles and assemblage Her creations of peace are inspired by nature universal harmony and positive forward thinking Holli believes energy is contagious and celebrates being on this side of the dirt through the end of her paintbrush Forever an optimist she wants you to leave her visuals with the need to beat your metaphorical drum You can find her work online at Holli May Thomas Fine Art or on Facebook at The InfraRedHead Shed Art by Holli May Thomas A self proclaimed internal humorist Margo Stutts Toombs creates and dwells in wacky worlds Her poetry dances at Untameable City Mutabilis Press Texas Poetry Calendar and Love over 60 An Anthology of Women s Poems Newsletter of the Gulf Coast Chapter of Texas Master Naturalists The Ekphrastic Review 2021 Friendswood Library Ekphrastic Poetry Reading and Archway Gallery chap books Her flash nonfiction unfolds at Equinox Synkroniciti and Airplane Reading Margo s videos screen at local and national film video festivals She performs her monologues at Fringe Festivals art galleries and anywhere food and beverages are served One of Margo s favorite pastimes is co hosting the monthly poetry flash readings at the Archway Gallery in Houston Texas Check out her shenanigans at https www margostuttstoombs com and on Facebook https www facebook com margo toombs Chuck Wemple is the current President of Mutabilis Press He began writing poetry in a workshop setting at the University of Montana in the 1980s Chuck s community work includes the creation of publishing outlets and reading series assisting with poetry festivals and curating and moderating discussion panels A fencer and magician Chuck is currently exploring the intersection of poetry with the techniques of magical illusion and creating new forms based on the rhythms textures and actions of fencing and boxing His latest project focuses on establishing fictive realities for members of his family tree without any preserved history other than name and when and where they may appear and disappear in time Chuck lives in Houston with his wife the artist and poet Mary Wemple Mary Wemple is a poet artist and creator of Words Art a reading and workshop series inspired by the art in Houston She holds degrees in English and Studio Art from the University of Houston and an MFA from Maryland Institute College of Art Her poetry has been published in Austin International Poetry Fest Houston Poetry Fest Anthology in 2005 2009 and 2015 Harbinger Asylum Enchantment of the Ordinary Spiky Palm and she was featured in the 2014 Word Around Town poetry tour lineup Vanessa Zimmer Powell s poetry has aired on the radio and has been published in numerous journals and anthologies Recently she has taken an interest in writing and filming cinepoems and has been a ReelPoetry and Gulf Coast Film Festival juried cinepoet and filmmaker Poetry awards include first place winner of the 2017 and 2016 Houston Poetry Fest ekphrastic competition and top honors in the 2017 2019 and 2021 Friendswood Library ekphrastic poetry competitions She also received honors at the 2013 Austin Poetry Fest and a 2013 Rick Steves haiku award Her chapbook Woman Looks into an Eye is published by Dancing Girl Press

Acknowledgements The two Memorandum poems were published in John Milkereit s last book entitled Drive the World in a Taxicab published by Lamar University Literary Press in 2018 They have been slightly revised for this issue of Equinox Traveling on Fire is currently in his latest book entitled A Place Comfortable with Fire also to be published by Lamar University A Perfect Bouquet by Winston Derden was published in New Reader Magazine March 2020 Vol 3 Issue 9 Freedom and When Life Gets Too Blurry by Carolyn Adams are photos taken of the graffiti wall in Austin TX Gatherer of Heat by Carrie Kornacki was originally published in di verse city 2014 Austin Lips by Vanessa Zimmer Powell is a photo taken of L Amour an art installation by artists Jean Tinguely and Niki de Saint Phale that is part of the Stravinsky Fountain in Paris France Hot Street by Vanessa Zimmer Powell is a photo of Mosaic of Light by HYBYCO Design Studio taken at Discovery Green in Houston Texas