Not Kon-Tiki

Scepter swings and I am won. We are docking inside of

a landmine. It is the dark secret it is the dark

cup of coffee it is the dark number

it is sexuality not sex itself.

It is the crucifixion without

nails and it was

why I chose

to seek her.

Scepter-swings but

what good would it be

for IKEA to sell those?

 

Benjamin Josef Biesek, USA

Figuratively Angelic

Angels aren’t special

Because of beautiful white wings

But proximity to the heart

With which they wrestle and sing

Angels aren’t special

Is love not everything?

Then they are ubiquitous

Fleeting

Filling our lives with love

So, know I don’t lie

When I recall this tired line

Angels are not special

You’ve been one many times

 

J.W. Dalton, USA