March 10-16, 2014: Diana Raab and Jonathan Hayes

Diana Raab and Jonathan Hayes

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Diana Raab

Bio (auto)

Diana Raab, a native of New York, lives in Santa Barbara, California. She is an award-winning memoirist, poet, and blogger, and author of eight books, including, four poetry collections. Her most recent poetry collection is called Lust (CW Books, Imprint of WordTech Communications). She teaches writing workshops around the country. She is currently completing her doctorate in psychology. Her weekly Monday blog can be found at She also writes a monthly column for BrainSpeak and is a regular blogger for the The Huffington Post (HUFF 50). Visit Diana on the web here:

The following work is Copyright © 2014, and owned by Diana Raab and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Smudged Kisses

When we lie together
me on your barely shaven chest
your legs snaked around mine,
I feel this pile of smudged tongue kisses
on the shirts of your life,
woven into the ethers we share
with our own ambient air.

One can get lost
in this sense of euphoria
this truthful after-sex delight
when everything seems right
and we are so very tight
within our boundaries
until I turn to you
in that window of ten minutes
to ask of the truth of you.

You kiss my forehead
and firmly squeeze my deltoids
and say that’s a rhetorical question,
as your kisses fill oversized buckets
suspended from silken blue skies
and your heart beats into mine
as time snakes ever so slowly
around our temporary universe.

Jonathan Hayes

Bio (auto)

Jonathan Hayes lives on Nob Hill in San Francisco, California. He is the editor and publisher of the long-running American small press magazine, Over the Transom. He’s the author of the book-length poem, T(HERE) (Silenced Press; 2010); Nippon: Drinking Sake and Staring at Fireflies in the August of Cicadas (Mel C. Thompson Publishing; 2012) and American Haiku (Mel C. Thompson Publishing; 2013)

The following work is Copyright © 2014, and owned by Jonathan Hayes and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Woody Allen is Filming a Movie on Post Street

After work trekking home I walk past the shoot and the same Buddhist monk
I walked past the other day.

But today this monk and I catch eyes and I say, "Are you one of Woody’s extras?"
"No," he says. "But for a donation I’ll be your extra." With both hands he extends a shiny
gold plastic card from a small neat pack in his palm.

Reaching into my black jeans’ front pocket and finding nothing but my apartment keys
I quickly realize and tell him I have no money. I open my tote bag and grab out the
Chinatown peach that I didn’t eat during lunch today.

He says, "It’s okay," with just a slight head bow, and then he slides a wooden beaded
bracelet onto my right wrist. We connect eyes and hold something greater than us for a
warm moment. Then, as the street traffic rushes by, we walk away.

The monk continues looking for money down Stockton Street, and I walk home up Nob Hill
telling myself not to take off the bracelet and wondering what this movie is all about.

Late Evening

The astray is warm
The toilet makes a noise

The t.v. is still on

In the City

Sixth Street bodega beer is ice-freezing cold and the cheapest
And yes, the “21 Hayes” bus is rolling down Market Street

Why have a cannabis card when the gangsters serve you fatter!?

Of course, I need a haircut, and that Latin tranny caught my eye

Just thinking about the post-script to Armageddon
While I cross the street with both my feet still working

Let’s get a $2.50 slice from Chico’s and talk about it…




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