Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Michael Lee Johnson and the Nuclei Redemption of Sugar Rats, a Salmon Vodka Drunk, Pickpockets and Knit Sweaters


I am tired of cheaters
online, weary eyed crossword
players complicated moves
drift dancers, lies, laid soft peddle
dark closet dreamers.

Old Hens 

Why do old hen's cry-
socialize in familiar doctor offices safe
the smell and the scent of times unchanged.
Magazines folder pages back to comfort.
Seek nuclei redemption in prayer books of the New Testament.
I find them there beside me in seated chairs, and wheelchairs,
moving on, why do old hen's cry?

South Chicago Night 

Night is drifters,
sugar rats, streetwalkers,
pickpockets, pimps,
insects, Lake Michigan perch,
neon tubes blinking,
half the local street
lights bulbs burned out.

No One Cares

No one cares
I set in my 2001 Chevy S10 truck
drunk on smoked salmon vodka,
writing poems on Subway sandwich napkins.
No one cares my life is a carburetor
full of fumes, filters, caskets, crickets.

Memories:  Tasha Tudor

The heart of this land is within the person living there.
The cattle grazing near the riverbank, gardens manicured
with manure, cats sucking milk from any nipple, and those corgi dogs.
Mice loved life beneath her steps where she walked.
Sheep baskets full wool to wheel and knit sweaters handmade.

Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois.  He has been published in more than 875 small press magazines in 27 countries, and he edits 10 poetry sites.    Author's website http://poetryman.mysite.com/  He has over 76 poetry videos on YouTube:   https://www.youtube.com/user/poetrymanusa/videos   Email:  promomanusa@gmail.com

Thursday, January 7, 2016

Matthew Borczon Protests That We Are More Than Ten Pages

End of shift

The Afghan
soldier was
shot in
the chest
and thigh
mostly I
just held
his arms
down while
they put
in a
central line
and the
hung bag
after bag
of blood
there were
6 people
working on
him and
he seemed
stable as
we sent
him into
the OR

that night
told me
he had
died on
the operating
table we
could not
keep enough
blood in
him he
said just
before walking
away funny
I really
thought he
was going
to be
OK he
said over
his shoulder
I thought
so too

but back
then I
think I
thought  the
same thing
about the
and me.

Human resources

Spent 7
days in
HR working
on files
and charts
I thought
it would
be a
nice change
of pace
from the
ward and
the blood
and bandages
just a
long row
of cabinets
and I
only worked
day shift
that week
but after
the 31st
death certificate
I filed
into skinny
I knew
for certain
that death
was everywhere
here and
it reduced
everyone’s  life
to 10
pages or

Post deployment

and cleaned
both my
rifle and
9mm and
gave back
my body
armor and
two full
sea bags
felt a
hundred pounds
lighter for
awhile as
I walked
around Norfolk
trying to
feel like
a civilian again

I remember
really enjoying
those first
few weeks
back home
before the
of everything
I could
not give
back from
the war
hit me
and I
those I
loved and
those I
barely knew.

Matthew Borczon is a nurse and Navy Corpsman from Erie Pa. He served in the busiest combat hospital in Afghanistan from 2010-2011, he writes about his experiences on Camp Bastion and about the difficulties he has had since coming home.