Untitled, 1969

Then there will be a time.
As rain. As good.
A window.

Then there will be place
and waiting. There will be
a place. In the goodness that anchors.

all the miles. There will be time,
and there will be another,
or many others

in the elevators
of ideas. There will be
a sign,

There may be a time

to see a self. In language.
There may be
a self.

Or there may be a story so large
systems could be nothing,
a cloud or latitude.

A cloud.
The nightmare. There may be.
A palm tree as a tree

could mean a thing.
There could be a thing.
Could be that things and then

we’ll be glad Many things
in the field. Snow and starlight.
Such as snow.

Or fish. Such
as ourselves.
Such as it is.

Caley O’Dwyer
from Rothko Poems
Full Nova by Caley O'Dwyer is available for purchase.

bam baby, swing
high through the sky, the sunlight hits my eyes
blinding me momentarily, I plummet back to earth
point my toes up to heaven
wonder if God can guess my shoe size
all alone in a moment of purity
nothing lasts forever, my turn is through
wish I could fly, I free myself at the peak
soaring through the air, catch me God, catch me
reunited with friends long since gone
slide on the asphalt, tear the skin
another valuable lesson learned, little less pure
I get back in line for one last ride
bam baby, swing

Stephen Grillos
10/23/97
San Bruno, CA

Golden haired lady clutches quietly to small shell of a man.
Long cold sighs and unfinished sentences break the still.
Hands clutching nervously for some sign of
Crash, the sound of steel grinding on asphalt.
The evening fades quicker into the past,
and they both know loneliness is soon to arrive.
A last grab, one more chance for
What?
I don’t know.

Michael Cooke
9/29/95
Dallas, TX