Eleanore Lee has been writing fiction and poetry for many years in addition to her regular job as a legislative analyst for the University of California system. Her work has appeared in a range of journals, including Alabama Literary Review, Atlanta Review, Carbon Culture Review, Existere Journal, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Portland Review, and Tampa Review. She was selected as an International Merit Award Winner in Atlanta Review’s 2008 International Poetry Competition and also won first place in the November 2009 California State Poetry Society contest.
It happens. Shall we
Back off a bit.
Let it rest?
Look. Maybe it’s just not okay, Cupid.
It’s not like you were the first.
Or the only.
Radio’s on in that quiet room:
That careful soft voice
Sing it, Bessie!
The voice in your head:
I woke up this morning with a awful aching head
My new man had left me, just a room with an empty bed.
Says it all.
Walk round your now-spacious place
Hey, now you’ve got another half a medicine cabinet free to put stuff in.
Stare down at your naked hand,
Your hand not-held.
Look out the window at the street below:
That pile left out by the door: Goodwill?
Strangers on the street hurrying to late dates
Goals plans hopes
What do they know?
Listen. She’s still singing.
I need a little sugar in my bowl
I’m not going anywhere.
Forget how to...
When my bed get empty make me feel awful mean and blue
My springs are getting rusty, sleeping single like I do.
Yes, of course he’s human.
Meaning more like us than shark, snake or earthworm.
We humans, we anticipate.
Feel fear, avoid danger
His family came from a known place,
Northern Europe (like mine actually).
He was born out of a mother’s body,
Must have cried and fussed as a baby.
Did anyone read him Hansel and Gretel?
Did he ever memorize conjugations?
Help set the table?
He apparently breathes air.
Did he have
Swimming lessons at summer camp?
Watch the sun set?
I don’t get it.
I’m feeling closer to other creatures than ever.
Look, that black bug crawling up my bean plant.
It sees me—or smells or hears—knows danger
And scuttles away.
C. BARRY BUCKNER
DOUGLAS J. LANZO
DR. DOUGLAS YOUNG
JAMIE FIORE HIGGINS
JOHN J. BRUGALETTA
LOIS GREENE STONE
MICHAEL H. BROWNSTEIN
RENZO DEL CASTILLO
RICHARD T. RAUCH
TED MC CARTHY
VISHNU B. UNNITHAN