ABOUT
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EDITORIAL
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THREE POEMS
by Bob Slaymaker
My Wife Breaks Out
This
afternoon she flashed me,
she who's always been so shy,
perfect circles of softness
staring at my face, then gone,
hidden beneath her sweater.
I just smiled.
It was the middle of the day,
her flash an interruption,
a suggestion she's leaving her room,
full-force, unchained,
ready to take the world by surprise.
The Phone Call
How
are you, sweetheart?
I'm so glad you called.
Your voice is water
Down my parched throat.
Lotion on my dry skin.
Oxygen in my gasping lungs.
How are you, sweetheart?
I'm so glad you called.
The Lake
On
the shore, above green blades of grass,
yellow-centered lilies rise erect.
Fuzzy bumble bee buzzes into
and tips a purple wildflower.
A squadron of dragonflies hovers,
then darts away.
Black and orange butterfly
zigzags clumsily around a pine tree.
Kingfisher skims the water,
breaks the surface to snatch a minnow.
Bob Slaymaker's
poems have appeared, or will soon appear, in Callaloo, The Christian
Science Monitor, Essence, Exquisite Corpse, Free
Lunch, New York Quarterly, OntheBus, Orbis, Pif,
Poetry Ireland Review, River Styx, The Texas Observer,
Weber Studies, and Windsor Review.
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