Morning Shift
T.J. O'Donnell

For years I get up earlier than God to sharpen tools on the grinding wheel, sparks falling on my shoes. I am napping when he notices and His voice sings in the bird song: who left the sparks out, who left it out? The mammals intone indictment instead of praise, indicate me by stepping backwards, don’t wake me for the package. Small wrapped bomb left on the porch. The attached card is bigger than the present: Dear You, Bang. Love, Me. Under the newspaper wrapping paper a box with smaller and smaller boxes that I am opening for the rest of my life.




T.J. DONNELL teaches first grade in Fairbanks, Alaska. His poems have appeared in places like Cirque, Ice-Floe, Banjo Newsletter and the sides of Borealis Brewery bottles. He plays upright bass with the E.T. Barnette String Band, The Frosty Bottom Boys, and The Headbolt Heaters.

:: ABOUT :: ISSUES :: SUBMISSIONS :: NEWS ::

ISSUE :: 5 ::


Brenda Anderson :: The Fimble Wind
   
Evelyn Hampton :: Hi
  Savior
  Start With Steak
   
Helen Vitoria :: White
   
Adam Stoves :: Ballusional
   
Rose Hunter :: [taxi]
   
Gary Every :: Popes on Bicycles
   
Bethany Haug :: Love in the Park
   
Danielle Lea Buchanan :: Spawn
   
Lewis Gesner :: Black Ball
   
David Tomaloff :: Five Photographs
   
Danica Obradovic :: The Shortest Ceremony
  Syllabic Debacle
   
Mark Walters :: Caveboy 1 & 2
   
Larissa Nash :: The Star
  Unreal
   
Jenny McDougal :: For the Monkey Astronauts of America in the 1950s
  Adler Planetarium on a Weekend
   
James Valvis :: Poem Composed Entirely With Last Lines from James Dickey Poems 1 & 2
   
T.J. O'Donnell :: Morning Shift
  Handmade in Alaska
   
Emily Glossner Johnson :: Vladimir Lenin Grown Weary
   
Meg Eden :: An Old Man Sighted, Planting Poinsettias
   

Homage to the Strange Spirits

Kenneth Patchen ::  Picture Poems