"The Magical Realist" Foundling of enchant- ed lands, dweller in starry ways, mythographer. 04-17-2017 Clinton, MS
Prom Night She'd worked a long time to earn enough money for the dress she wanted. Her softball team was behind her, and her teachers too, who saw that hard work and her bright eyed pride that very day of prom night. She didn't make it out of the neighborhood. It happened in front of some parents who knew her. Dead on the scene when the ambulance arrived, one of the cars crossed the lane. It was head on. The text messages went out just as the kids were arriving at prom. The counselor was called in. One kid just sat in the corner crying until he was taken home. Others went in. The decorations were beautiful 'cause Lindy did such a good job. The dresses were the best part: kids who looked like slobs all week looked like gods and goddesses that night, lords of springtime glory if only for one night. Most of them still had a good time, somehow, that night. One girl gave it all up to a guy she liked: a hard, stupid agent of her quick knowing, sudden adulthood, and breathless flight from death. She'll get married too young, too quick, got that child to care for. He'll cheat on her in about a year and they'll be one more divorce stat. In the meantime, a teacher comes straight home just to hug her children, and the most helpless of them all can do nothing but write yet another damn poem that makes sure we keep that bloody, gaping wound wide open. Wesson, MS 04 April 2017
Liber Abaci O! Could any great stone, mountainous though it is, resist that wry, gentle, know- ing look that pierces your dark surfaces with humor like prismatic sunlight dript through summer windowpanes in early morning: you want the light, but don't want to wake up. c 2017 Jim Rovira
2017 love is stronger than death faith is stronger than sin truth is stronger than lies hope is stronger than fear life is stronger than denial love is stronger than death and every thing that lives is holy.
Frendeles Elated, lucid rotund peaches heave their twin, soft, downy curves into the still loneliness of cold northern climes, of dark lands with a night that lasts all day. c Jim Rovira 2016 Colorado Springs