Rookie (Chicago, Illinois)


241. October Home 11/13/2005
242. Planet Of Six 11/12/2005
243. A Day At The Pink Beach 11/12/2005

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A Day At The Pink Beach

An umbrella being dragged at the day's end.

A seagull churns its wings,
avoiding sunlight,
the hard flight of Icarus.

Pink swimsuits blown in the wind,
in search of due course.

Time is needy, a bronzed babe walks by, a regular
statue of Liberty, her flesh turning to
green palor as the water cools.

In this empty beach dream of deepening sky,
the wet Kremlin and White House

are eroded as our childless hopes.

An old woman collects
seashells-caverns of poverty
to be sold to our deaf ears.
The ocean roars of stolen property.

Read the full of A Day At The Pink Beach

Old Town Theatre

The theatre had changed
for the monkeys had gone home.
No more clapping in unison,
no more imitation
For love was more than faux baubles.
The mardi gras of the soul,
a lone king with a violin and his pint of ale.
And the script, too, had changed-
To be of a place only on a stage

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