Poetry Super Highway

Poetry Super Highway

January 25-31, 2016: Len Kuntz and Michael Estabrook

Len Kuntz and Michael Estabrook

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Len Kuntz
lenk98290@hotmail.com

Bio (auto)

Len Kuntz is a writer from Snohomish, Washington and an editor at the online magazine Literary Orphans. His latest story collection, "I’m Not Supposed To Be Here And Neither Are You" is due from Unknown Books this March. You can also find him at lenkuntz.blogspot.com

The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Len Kuntz and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

You are

a white-winged horse
ballerina opening up like a sun-filled tulip
dappled impressions that shape-shift on the surface of the southern sea
a safe step where ice would be
the answer Yes
definitely Yes
a guide that tells me
“You have arrived at your destination.”

 

 


Michael Estabrook
mestabrook@comcast.net

Bio (auto)

Michael Estabrook from Acton, Massachusetts, is a recently retired baby boomer child-of-the-sixties poet freed finally after working 40 years for “The Man” and sometimes “The Woman.” No more useless meetings under florescent lights in stuffy windowless rooms. Now he’s able to devote serious time to making better poems when he’s not, of course, trying to satisfy his wife’s legendary Honey-Do List.

 

The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Michael Estabrook and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

metamorphosis

In the mirror I’m amazed at how
I am metamorphosing into my Grandpa
getting shorter, stockier, hair
shorter and grayer, old clothes and shoes, scowl
across my face but I haven’t taken to wearing a hat, yet.

While Kerry lay on his deathbed two
of his girl friends came in with their guitars
and mandolins and their long dark hair and tight jeans
and played Angel from Montgomery
keeping him alive for two more days.

At 17 you couldn’t have convinced me
that 40 years later I’d be raking leaves in my front yard
stopping only long enough to talk with the old guy
who walks his cocker spaniel by my house
about how our dogs are getting old.

 

 

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