WellYoureDead_CoverFull

Poetry: Well, You’re Dead by Robert L. Penick

Well, You’re Dead and I’m holding my own,taking on water, mainlyin my feet and ankles,filling up like a rain gaugeor the Edmund Fitzgerald.Time hangs burdens on us:weight, fatigue, regretthe most noticeable.They bind our hands andplant our feet to the soil,to a moment thatno longer existson this twisting Earth.A mediocre boxer,I keep moving, clockwise,around this ring,shoulders […]

David+Photo+1 (1)

Poetry: Master and Pupil

Master and Pupil by David Sapp   When he was a young man, an earnest but nutty art student, Charles Robert came to my door painted head-to-toe in Ultramarine Blue, seeking advice and turpentine. Even then, he could have been a blue Krishna wooing Radha. Now colleagues, he is the swami, and I remain, as […]