selected past writing at 42opus


from The Constraints of Architecture by ADAM CLAY

A longing lives inside the mind: both to be in the past

Where we weren't, but also to be the person

We are in the present living in that unrealized past. The moon

Is a paint bucket on its side. The moon is…

2 June 2004 | poetry


They Flee From Me by SIR THOMAS WYATT

They flee from me that sometime did me seek

With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.

I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,

That now are wild and do not remember

That sometime they put themself in danger

To take bread at my hand; and now they range,

Busily seeking with a continual change.

26 October 2009 | poetry, classic



Maps are never skin. I know

that you're only a guide but

I prefer to pretend otherwise.

4 September 2007 | poetry, unpublished writers


Florida Room by ERIC BLIMAN

Might some young Einstein not re-fuse this bleak-appointed nucleus,

Retool its quarks, by Bunsen's blue-tongued flame, into Florida?

23 June 2007 | poetry, ghazal


Burying Pointer by SASHA VIVELO

Pointer lay on the couch, fifty-eight pounds of eleven-year-old black lab mix with curly hair. She lay with her chin between her paws just like when she was sleeping, but I knew right away she wasn't sleeping.

"Hey, Pointer, kiddo," I said anyway. "Too hot to get up this morning?"

Pointer weighed seventy pounds just a couple of months earlier, but pancreatic cancer pared her down pretty fast. I hadn't really thought she'd be gone this soon, though. I picked her up off the couch and she didn't feel like Pointer, just like a big heavy sack of cooked oatmeal. I laid her down on the rag rug next to the coffee table.

23 June 2008 | fiction, short story

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