Picaroon Poetry - Issue #6 - January 2017
This issue has quite the mix of voices, from adorably sinister to tenderly brutal, deadly serious to charmingly irreverent, and everything in between. Featuring work by Peycho Kanev, Karen Little, Stephen Nelson, Mike Jewett, Belinda Rimmer, Lizzie Holden, Darren C. Demaree, Wren Tuatha, Uma Dwivedi, Mark J. Mitchell, Chris Hardy, Seth Jani, Elizabeth Gibson, Harry Gallagher, Bobbie Sparrow, Stephen Daniels, Kitty Coles, Gareth Writer-Davies, Michael Albright, Richard King Perkins II, Tonya Eberhard, Ann Howells, James Bell, Paul Vaughan, Larry O. Dean, Shadwell Smith, and Rex Davies.
This issue has quite the mix of voices, from adorably sinister to tenderly brutal, deadly serious to charmingly irreverent, and everything in between.
Featuring work by Peycho Kanev, Karen Little, Stephen Nelson, Mike Jewett, Belinda Rimmer, Lizzie Holden, Darren C. Demaree, Wren Tuatha, Uma Dwivedi, Mark J. Mitchell, Chris Hardy, Seth Jani, Elizabeth Gibson, Harry Gallagher, Bobbie Sparrow, Stephen Daniels, Kitty Coles, Gareth Writer-Davies, Michael Albright, Richard King Perkins II, Tonya Eberhard, Ann Howells, James Bell, Paul Vaughan, Larry O. Dean, Shadwell Smith, and Rex Davies.
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Lares<br />
Kitty Coles<br />
Nine candles over the hearth, their buttery flames<br />
attenuating, swelling, as if breathing.<br />
The copper kettle radiating warmth,<br />
glowing, pouring its light across the kitchen.<br />
My jams in the glass-fronted cupboard, each pot a jewel;<br />
blood-red, blood-dark, at each slow-pulsing heart.<br />
The books lining the walls, their inky stink<br />
brewing the air with must of cave and root.<br />
The chest of linens, white and blue and folded,<br />
lying in lavender, old stems, dry petals.<br />
The heavy teapot, its steams, its floral curve,<br />
holding my applemint, my lemonbalm.<br />
The shoes in the hallway, row on orderly row,<br />
my sturdy boots, your heel-scuffed, toe-scuffed slippers.<br />
The photographs in boxes, the cherished letters,<br />
scraps from the wreckage, fragments against ruin.<br />
The potatoes under the earth, grub-pale in darkness,<br />
growing smooth-skinned and firm as stiffening wax.
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