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                                                                          Issue 8

Page 19

                                                                                                                                                                                       Swipe left        Swipe down


Oblivion, reality
all play, continually.

Distinctions, illusions,
ideas, concerns, solutions —

Dreams of our fabric
that we are.

  Mindy Levokove __

Untitled - (1966)

The clouds were gray
in a white sky.

One would have thought
it was night, but it was day.

I thought it right to leave you,
still I stayed.


I was cinnamon, then,
sharp and salty, exotic and real.

the field flowers, wild,
formed crowds,

then dispersed.
And I could see no pattern.

  Mindy Levokove __


© Eve Packer:IMG_5612

© Eve Packer: IMG_5612

Wind, Heat

Circling mind with heated palms;
fingertips charging with

Bubbling spring!
Heavenly gate!

I am tired stalk

  Mindy Levokove __

The Singing of the Rain

The singing of the rain
The laughter of the birds

The laughter of the rain
The singing of the birds

Hold on the way of words
Beyond the boiling brain

The angle of the shards
Don’t let them tilt your cards

Still ride upon the plane
Still curl and cure your hards

The words are slow and drain
Your heavy heart to bards

Don’ think you lose the stain
On mountain action wards

The service of the main
Beyond the pilot’s drill

How else but call your name?
How else but call to you?

  Mindy Levokove __


The Blue Marble, 4/30/19 - A Prose Poem

We roll out bales of courage. They float in an orange soup. We call that our world. There’s a real time rendering of the Blue Marble, on Ludlow, televised by NASA, funded by the next big thing. What can we buy on Ludlow Street? It’s all for sale.

I want to sit in the car, with security clearance stickers, parked in front.

  Mindy Levokove__


So The Blade and the Wind

So the blade and the wind
Went to play in the blind.
Were they there for the time,
Or a blend of the skein?

On a whole of the piece
Where the peace is a cloak,
In the bay of the door,
Near the home of the brave,

I wave to you - I dream your hand
Then draw your mouth to me.

In a month of your days
Round a tumbler of lines
On a table of pauses,
I wait for you! I wait for you!

  Mindy Levokove__