I Can See
I see the children
play
innocent on
tricycles
and puppies
trailing
behind
and mothers
that don’t
work
because day care
cost too
much
and father
toils away
in the factory
while father
toils away
at some
underpaying
fast food
joint
and
mother says
press those
peddles
Forward
Marley
press those
peddles Forward
the girl sings
the birds sing
my
PTSD flairs
&
my childhood memories
flair
I close the garage
door
upon her happy
future
& my
unhappy
past
& the beer
slides
down my
gullet
as Marley
sings
and my
garage door
slowly
closes
Want
I want to die
and as the
others
gasp for
life
I can’t understand
why this
lust
for sex
and
ecstasy
why
this
thirst
for bird’s song
and babies cries
and this ladder
climbing
and this corporate
love song
and this laughter
and this
fancy tomb
stone
nothing is real
in this life
but death
and this
pain
*Born and raised in Ardsley, N.Y, lover of the Hudson River and all that surrounds it, Pamela de Benedictis is best known as a local Rivertown’s Street Photographer. Her works have been featured in many restaurants and shops in and around Westchester County, NY.
*Pamela de Benedictis
Wayne Russell is a creative writer born and raised in central Florida, he has lived in Scotland and New Zealand, he now resides in Columbus, Ohio with his small family. In March 2016, Wayne launched his very own online creative writing zine, Degenerate Literature.
Confessions of a Protestant
The phone rings
neon purple / black ravens
are frightened
away
they cower into the confines
of blunting skyline
Like me
they shy away from
humanity
Humans are the most dangerous
animal of all
As if we didn’t already know
my wife slams the door
in disgust
Tomb stones sway laughing
in gallant Springtime
the phone rings once again
and rattles my bones
The bones of my ancestors
clang a wind chime tune
and soon I join them
another voice silenced by the shrill
cloak of death
St. Michael please deliver me
from my debauchery
Though I am
protestant
I still need thee
Poetry by Wayne Russell