Current Issue 2026

I am ripped from the realm of dreams,

           an echoing chatter casts away serenity-

                      fading

                                 away

                                            from me

like rays of white light breaking apart the ocean’s mist.

Up and at ‘em, or whatever they say.

I can’t fathom the thought of staying in bed much longer,

the fear of disrupted routine threatens too fiercely.

Up and away, to the bathroom,

get yourself in order, you’re on the opening shift:

                      feed the dog,

                                 get her medicine, let her run free— 

                                            (between four concrete walls)—

                      prepare some breakfast,

                                 don’t forget the lunches or you sister’s coffee with extra sugar,

                      watch the California Clouds traveling above,

                                 Tricking you into thinking it’ll be cold today 

                                            (it will be hot by 2pm)

the symphony of suburbia plays pianissimo,

                      mourning doves in the morning,

                      highways humming to life; just down the street,

                      this neighborhood echoes with car doors shutting,

                      others on their opening shifts, fearing the threat of disrupted routine,

                      rising and shining, or whatever they say.