Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
Duke’s Upper Deck Cafe I finish the last swallow of my second beer leave a five spot on the chrome top of the bar hold my teeth as I step out to the cold the air is woodsmoke there’s a Continue reading Duke’s Upper Deck Cafe & Four other new poems by Jason Baldinger
For the Beloved Dead of Delaware that nearly full moon those stars the clouds wave over the sky over the ocean I got lost freezing my mind grabbing this image transposing it to Van Gogh Starry Night Over the Continue reading For the Beloved Dead of Delaware by Jason Baldinger
Dead Flowers as I order dinner she requests a walk in the cemetery she got flowers for her birthday a first, she’s held onto them too long now she wants to leave dead flowers as a gift on some random Continue reading Dead Flowers by Jason Baldinger
Mosaic Octopus (for Jason Ryberg) you said the aliens are coming down I said the aliens are bringing us the weeds we stared off through the dark from the basement porch at the bowl of a Salina skyline passing the Continue reading Mosaic Octopus (for Jason Ryberg) by Jason Baldinger
Mace’s Supermarket there’s a three-legged dog standing in a puddle of piss outside a Mace’s Supermarket there is no zip code for a broken heart Jason Baldinger is a poet hailing from Pittsburgh and recently finished a stint as writer Continue reading Mace’s Supermarket by Jason Baldinger
The Hymn to Brush Creek when a man greets you with an eighth of weed and a pack of cuddling cats you know he understands just what the roads does to a person, how it twists and addles perception and Continue reading The Hymn to Brush Creek by Jason Baldinger