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           We begin with sad news. Martin Grampound, the Editor of Zimmer-zine magazine, died recently, and this poem is included to celebrate his life.
           Gerald England has set up a tribute page :  
http://www.nhi.clara.net/z98.htm


          
          
            Friday 13th.

            79 days, since our first kiss.
            Her boss won't give her a holiday.
            This morning she spent 19 minutes on the toilet.
            I found the dog licking her naked toes.
            Over morning coffee, blind Bill talks about the delicate rays of cypress leaves!
            He used to be one of the local hells angels before his knees gave way.
            The birds singing outside remind me of her voice;
            how her shadow fell across the window and the scaffolding.
            I have a headache.
            My income tax check bounces.
            Bill says he has to have a black cat.
            He dreamt that he woke up beside one of his ex-wives.
            You wake up for this!
            He asked me to join him for lunch.
            Onion stew

            © Martin Grampound


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             One Easy Answer

             Before us sparrows curve into the sky
             like ashes tempted by wind, flying from bones
             of another fall.  My children wonder
             why our road is dirt, why we live so high
             on this hill, why stones interrupt our walk.

             I cannot deny the small deaths that brought me
             here.  Desires sown but untended:  three loves
             left on a vine, two secrets borne, one promise
             to return, unkept.  We are here because the way
             is up, our road unpaved to atone for holes
             unfilled, our path rough to remind me the journey
             is long.  To them I reply, here is home.


             © Julie Damerell


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            Euphrates

 

            Here where the meadow and the forest edge
            run down like rain to river beds set fair
            for killing, once the armies all get there
            and actions aren't mistakes --  when what is said
            can take effect outside the talking head -- 
            response a Brownian dancing in the air
            like insects in the glen for those who share
            the eating of them. Nothing ends more dead

 
            or less for it. The light ephemera of imagoes
            progenerate the cool causality
            of form and content as it comes and goes
            like wine, summer and the military,
            here where the River As Always flows
            and lightning plays across polarities.


            © Peter Richards


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            O'Malley and the Golden Dawn

            Due to his bout with gout, Archbishop Costa
            had switched from port to Scotch. He poured
            himself an ample glass of Vat 69 as they sat
            in noon shade on the tiled patio of his palace.

            Dialling the Pope's phone number as they say
            in Sligo, O'Malley thought as he enjoyed
            a cool glass of Negra Modelo beer. "You'll have
            heard of the devastation from the Los Peta

            volcano, Father." An iridescent jay landed
            landed on the birdbath and eyed Costa's crucifix.
            "General Madrigal tells me ash buried the main
            camp of the insurgents. Wiped the curs out!
            The emergency is over, Padre, we can breathe
            again." A bead of Scotch gleamed on his lip.

            Celebrating Mass in the Mestite village,
            O'Malley raised the wafer, conscious
            of the finger lost to the guerrillas.
            He dreamed of hands reaching out to him
            as ash rained down.


            © Christopher T. George


( O'Malley and the Golden Dawn : Editor's Choice of M.A.Griffiths: ' I enjoyed the rich texture of this poem, its vivid details and compressed narrative. It's a poem that transports the reader to a new location.and says so much in a brief span. - a wonderful read, in short' )
           

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            A Short String of Sausages

            The Rossendale Sausage

            The infamous Rossendale sausage
            is saucy and emanates courage.
            It comes flying over like bluebirds in Dover
            But fatter and flavoured with borage


            The Cumberland Whopper

            Munich and Frankfurt and Essen:
            each thought their wurst was t' best'n.
            but each came a cropper to a Cumberland Whopper
            and were taught a formidable lesson.


            Rasputin's Sausage

            The sausage of choice of Rasputin
            had toad-skin and ear-lobe of newt in.
            He was living proof of that ancient truth
            "Be hard on yourself - put the boot in!"


            © Philip Burton


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             Closing Time

             I know the creech of cats,
             it slits the evening's heart;
             feral amo's, amat's
             -- high-pitched blackest art.

             Begats beget begats;
             cats flaunt their wildest parts
             in lethal lovers' spats
             and spit in evil darts.

             Oh, I know the creech of cats,
             for it slits the evening's heart
             and their babies squeal like rats,
             when Toms rip them apart.

             © Nigel Holt
           


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            Biographia Literaria
                     (Samuel's Sarahs)

            Sarah Coleridge nee Fricker
            Sara Hutchinson (Asra)
            Sara Coleridge b. 22nd December 1802

            "I speak not now of those habitual Ills
            That wear out Life, when two unequal Minds
            Meet in one House & two discordant Wills "
                  (Letter to Sara Hutchinson, April 4, 1802 - Sunday Evening.)



            What sparked his sudden outburst, who can tell?
            Bad sex perhaps, a botched attempt to patch
            things up, a pointless row, familiar hell.
            All night he writes to her. You try to snatch
            some sleep, then watch alone, in misery
            the strange, psychotic moon devour the old.
            "Maybe he loves the other more than me?"
            You dare not ask, for fear of being told.
            Next anniversary: the final twist,
            you're now with child, he's published and been damned,
            "It's Asra he adored", critics insist.
            His genius left forsaken, a door slammed
            shut. Their daughter, Sara, survived the wreck:
            her father's famous name hung round her neck. 


            © Alan Wickes


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            The Apartheid Show

            "You were interested in art?"
            He remembered sketchbooks.
            Eggs she drew with the clarity of porcelain.
            Clear spaces giving cream pages dignity.
            An H or 2H pencil carved them clean.

            They had to be coaxed from her schoolbag,
            opened shyly. Briefly showed, they had
            no shadow or context. "You got straight As,
            yet you do not mention drawing.

            What made you then consider
            the woodwork option?
            Where you grew bored with making serviette rings?"

            Perhaps she did not remember. She tried to look
            away as she did decades before when they
            visited the apartheid show, the photographs
            she could not read. Separateness there, already.


            © Martyn Halsall


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            The Night Emile's Mistress Turned into a Cat

            She raised one arm above her head.
            That was the start of it, a smooth
            stretch of muscle, a lengthening of bone.
            She was resting on exhausted sheets,
            fingertips touching the wooden bedhead.
            He heard the scrape of nails.

            He lay beside her, drowsy with coming,
            and drifted into dreams, her rump spooned
            in his belly, firm against his soft sex.
            He awoke to a narrow vacancy,
            her furrow parched and empty.
            The mattress ached.

            She left a ghost of warmth
            and three golden hairs on the pillow,
            glowing like marmalade. Sometimes
            he hears a serenade in the lane
            beneath his window.

            Queans sing when they disengage,
            briefly, bitterly, then they lick, clean,
            clean, forget.



            © M.A.Griffiths

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            Miguelito


            It's a full moon night, Miguelito,
            in this city with its concrete heart,
            veins of steel, whose pulse
            knows nothing of our rhythm.

            How cold it's turned:
            you try to conjure up visions
            of suns that have long set
            on Jibacoa beach.

            You never forgot how to smile,
            mi corazón, as if I still wore
            the pink dress with floral print,
            my eyes full of unplucked stars.

            Sing for me once more,
            like Ibrahim, that other boy turned grey,
            Ay, Candela!

            See, Miguelito,
            see how I burn.
           
            ©  michaela a.gabriel

         
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            Dancing Lesson


            You take the fragile fingers of her hand
            and lift an arm, complete the pirouette.
            She trips and falls inside a baby grand
            before the band completes its second set.
            You clamour to her aid, replace the lid.
            The band stops playing, yet you're forced to shout,
            "Are you okay?"  She manages amid
            the din to say she is.  You hoist her out.
            Her dress is badly crumpled but her smile
            triumphant, beams between her blushing cheeks.
            She wants to stay and dance a little while
            although her full recovery may take weeks.

            "You want to land upscale?  See that piano?"
            You nod, maintain your tenor, shun soprano.



            © Les Wolf


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           Passing
 
            A wash of winter light turns Delft to darkness -
            our flat and furrowed land where windmills reached
            beyond the point an eye could find.
 
            We walked here once, on summer nights
            when men, sat at their sills, would chat across the street -
            old Dernison who mended shoes,
 
            the carpenter who'd set the world to rights,
            my Opa.  And always, by each window ledge,
            the August gladioli - they seem so tall and strong
 
            and then they're gone.


            ©  Christina Fletcher

( Passing : Editor's Choice of Helena Nelson: '.When I first read this poem, the last line struck me with a shock-- like static electricity. Then I read it again and it did the same again. And it continues to do that. It is carefully poised, hauntingly sad. The simple monosyllables of the last phrase, after the line break, seem to say everything about love and loss.')     

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            For All the Years
                 (on reading Harry Potter)

 
            For all the years, I still recall those rare
            clairvoyant boyhood moments when my world
            was new, and I glimpsed magic as it swirled
            and scintillated in the morning air.
 
            Grave young sorcerer, you make me smile
            with broomsticks, spells and potions. Every charm
            defies the darkness, shields your world from harm
            and conjures up my childhood for a while.
 
            Time can't touch you. Even so, take care
            to keep your youthful confidence and grace.
            I will remember how your spirit shone
            so bravely in the shadows of despair;
            a talisman to ward us when we face
            this grown-up world with all its magic gone.


            For T. K.

            © David Anthony

           
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           Fourth Grade Recess at Our Lady Queen of Hope


            Mary Angela sails above our sea
            of pixie cuts and Peter Pan collars,
            the flap of her ribbons matching
            our chants. With Double Dutch and flying hands
            we beg her to tell.

            White fear tucked tight
            as blouses in plaid jumpers,
            we want the facts
            between slaps of rope
            and Buster Browns on blacktop,
            make her jump until she spills
            the bloody words.


            © Julie Damerell

( Fourth Grade Recess at Our Lady Queen of Hope  : Editor's Choice of Charles Cornner:  This poem had a simple set of images which all carried multiple shades of meaning. I really was attracted to read and re-read. A fine work.' )
           

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            Judiciously


            The Court considers senior counsels' pleas
            judiciously each morning right at ten,
            then student lawyers rise on trembling knees
            like Daniels stepping to the lion's den.

            These servants of the aristocracy
            must advocate positions with respect,
            indentured to the gerontocracy --
            "M'Lord, my client prays.", and genuflect.

            With fear careening round the oval track
            within his mind, a student stumbles through
            responses to a Judge's keen attack.
            He gropes in vain for rules he thought he knew.

            This wretched victim stands before the Court
            oblivious that Judges like their sport.


            © Peter Gilchrist

               
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            Kitchen Homily

            One day, the last of the four wedding toasters
            leaped madly from the counter in a trail of crumbs.
            No one saw it coming, not even the silverware,
            who usually take pride in knowing everyone's

            business.  The trembling saltshaker watched
            as the toaster swung from its cord, pendulous
            and heavy in the early morning dark, wall socket
            sparking with blue fire.  The small appliances,

            already nervous by nature, ground, pureéd, cut,
            and otherwise opened various sections of air
            until the circuit blew, and they stopped, cold
            and speechless.  It's all come to this: the fridge's

            heavy shiver into silence, the microwave's dark
            on dark freedom from the tyranny of green digits,
            the solid, final thump of the toaster on the floor
            milliseconds before the cutlery assume control. 


            ©  Steve Mueske


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            To Die For

            Aunt Bessie has a talent: when she bakes,
            the flavour drives you wild. My cousins say
            their father Tim, a regular gourmet, 
            married her for love - of chocolate cakes.
 
            Poor Uncle Tim was feeling far from well - 
            in fact, was on his deathbed - when the scent
            of baking half-revived him. Off he went
            to find the source of that seductive smell. 

            Each step was painful as he tottered down
            to taste the treat. At last his feeble hand
            grasped hungrily. Bess slapped it sharply, and
            dismissed him with an irritated frown: 

            "Clear off to bed, and put the buns back too.
            I made them for the funeral, not for you." 


            © David Anthony


           
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Acknowledgements:

Fourth Grade Recess at Our Lady Queen of Hope previously appeared in La Petite Zine.
Kitchen Homily previously appeared in Three Candles.
One Easy Answer previously appeared in Bellowing Ark.


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Author's contact details:


David Anthony..................... 
http://www.davidgwilymanthony.co.uk/
Philip Burton....................... 
burtophil@hotmail.com
Julie Damerell......................
damerell@frontiernet.net
Christina Fletcher.................
Christinasjf2@aol.com
michaela a.gabriel................
http://wwwmembers.chello.at/michaela.a.gabriel
Christopher T. George...........
editorcg@yahoo.com
Peter Gilchrist......................
http://www.pgilchrist.ca
Martyn Halsall......................
martyn.halsall@ukonline.co.uk
Nigel Holt.............................
nigel_holt@yahoo.com
Steve Mueske......................
steve@threecandles.org 
Peter Richards.....................
pe-richa@online.no
Alan Wickes .......................
Alan.Wickes@ekno.com
Les Wolf..............................
boticello2000@yahoo.com

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Compiling Editor: M.A.Griffiths (
grasshopper@wordbug.freeserve.co.uk) . Associate Editors:
Charles Cornner (
ccornner@mindspring.com) and Helena Nelson (HE11@beatonh.freeserve.co.uk)

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