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An Octopus on A Blue NoteBy: Michael Bates
An octo with a banjo bangs out just jazz. He's deep...two, three leagues below sea level. He's cool-groovy in a marine green grotto. But when the tide's high, he jams under a jetty. Currents meet there. Together they wreak waves which swinging swimmers can crawl to, and "scuba, dubi, do, man," sometimes beat out.
Copyright © 1998 Michael Bates
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Storm!By: I.B. Rad
Crumpled leaves rustle down cobbled blocks as bobbing atop choppy waves fishing boats hustle into harbor. Tacking nippy gusts, padding townies hang on hoods while plastic bags - those errant birds! - drop, flop over rooftops. Tapping his pipe, an old guru grunts, "Big blow's on its' way!"
Copyright © 1998 I.B. Rad
The Illustrated Rad, I.B. Rad's Home Page
30 OctoberBy: Glen Faure
From a single snowflake’s visit came a small surprise today. He was of course not enough to shovel too small to eat too delicate to hold too genteel for concern and entirely too perfect to forget. Now, drifting into sleep, pulling blankets warmly up around my chin I'm considering tomorrow’s festival of costumes and chicanery— and wondering if all his brother flakes might arrive disguised as Winter.
Copyright © 1997 Glen Faure
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This Plant Called LifeBy: Travis Tapley
This plant called life is very sweet, Delicate flower from our God It grows wherever love's complete. With tender care always replete, The insecureness of its sod, This plant called life is very sweet. Strong foundation, its roots concrete, The weeds will never run roughshod, It grows wherever love's complete. Feed it "humble" and not "conceit," The uniqueness of every pod, This plant called life is very sweet. Nourishing hand, void of deceit, Each different, not to be called odd, It grows wherever loves complete. Watch it bloom and never deplete, Only fade where darkness has trod, This plant called life is very sweet, It grows wherever love's complete.
Copyright © 1997 Travis Tapley
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