You get the idea, SGVPQ 40

Mary Frances Spencer

PIGGIES

down jones
all 500 have gone south
bears can’t find any ice to stand on
bulls choking in dusty
foreclosed fields

green is in the red
blue faces can’t breathe
underwater

treasure
lost

so all the kings
and us pawns
have to put Humpty Dumpty
back on the
wall

before the pieces
of the last eight years

break the camels
and squeeze the piggies
who cry

all the way

home

Yes, more SGVPQ 40

Deborah P Kolodji

AUTUMN WRITING WORKSHOP

Blank page --
I search for words
or some inspiration...
the maple drops its leaves, I drop
my pen.

Yet another poem from SGVPQ 40

Jeffry Jensen

FLOODING BACK THE FLAMES

The river finally gave up the bodies,
but not without a fight,
not without a warning to the foolish.

I felt smothered by a shimmering
longitude, cut off by implausible
dreams of flammable contentment.

There were buses buried in mud,
taxis that never delivered their fares,
passports that never reached a border.

I listened for a native choir to
penetrate a sizzling latitude, to
rattle the boards of a growing isolation.

The river receded and gave back banks
where mothers had washed clothes.
Children set fire to mangled tires
and saw fathers in the flames.

Still another poem from SGVPQ 40

Lindy Hill

IF I’M DOWN TO A SINGLE WORD

let it be
Wapakoneta
a word of strength
imagination
history

not obscure
space buffs
will know
this word

in my dotage
which I hope
lasts a mere
moment
when I am
at a loss for words
Wapakoneta
will be the perfect one
to wrap my tongue
around

if I forget what it means
it will at least
pinpoint to others
when I lived
what was important
to me
what was in the news
back in my day

if I can no longer utter this
say it to me
you might hear the story
how I cried that day
in ‘69
as I watched coverage
of man’s first
walk on the moon

what a wonderful era
you will live in
I say to my infant
asleep
in the midnight
of history

speak the word again
you might elicit
the log of our trip
a year or two later
when we drive
some miles out of our way
to the small Ohio town
home to…
I might pause
and not for drama
but you will then
fill in the blank

Neil Armstrong

I will smile
murmur
one small step for man

Another poem from SGVPQ 40

Don Kingfisher Campbell

CAR TROUBLE

most cars
look young
shiny as
metallic beetles

others seem
older like
old boxes
taken off
dusty shelves

I've seen
quite a few
that could
be backpacks

there's one
missing a
red eye--
that's grotesque

even worse
that one's
got wrinkles
they tried
to get out
(should have
gone to
a professional)

oh and here's
a big loaf
of bread
with raisins
and nuts inside

Poem from SGVPQ 40

Jack Bowman

CROSSROADS IN THE DESERT

Road signs worn away
moan as they blow in the wind
nothing decipherable
even the post is twisted

there is a sharp pain
he gets at times like these
above the left temple
an ache emerges in each leg
then his back strains,
loses power
an old Buick on the fritz

he walks the desolate roads of his life
remembers the chances he had
to do something different
shakes his head, sighs
there are some things
you never see coming

until they run you over.