by Warren Gaston | Sep 8, 2020
What I see are bodies on the beach, not histories, bodies seeking sun, people less layered, more lathered, jumbled footprints pressed in sand. I see a couple staring through tunnels of lack. What I don’t see are parents minus child, an accident, no charges filed,...
by Warren Gaston | Sep 5, 2020
Is there _________? If no, why not? If yes, why?
by Warren Gaston | Sep 1, 2020
We’ve been warned this would happen, obliteration from our privileged spot huddled between Venus and Mars, fidgeting with both love and war. The sun, our blazing mother would eat us like some animals devour their bloody young. Some suspected that before our hot mama...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 25, 2020
a sunny day is incomplete without morning fog without noon sirens blaring the riskiness of time without six o’clock news declaring unoriginal sins without earth’s rotation sending the sun toward night without the moon reminding us there is light ...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 20, 2020
What’s the difference, let’s say, between a poem and a recipe. Both feed. Or a brochure on cool spots in Cleveland some funky local thinks visitors should see. Poets suggest different ways of seeing. How is Dr. William’s red wheelbarrow scribbled on a grabbed...
