Michael Estabrook
Michael Estabrook’s most recent collection is Controlling Chaos: A Hybrid Poem (Atmosphere Press, 2022). Retired now writing more poems and working more outside, he just noticed two Cooper’s hawks staked out in the yard or rather above it which explains the nerve-wracked chipmunks. He lives in Acton, Massachusetts. Visit Michael on the web here.
The following work is Copyright © 2023, and owned by Michael Estabrook and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Give or Take
. . . don’t waste time worrying
about what you can’t change
or fix she tells me all the damn time . . .
The fancy-pants astrophysicist
with the big glasses and crazy hair explains
in logical scientific detail
that in 5 billion years (give or take)
our Milky Way Galaxy will collide
with our neighbor the so much larger
Andromeda Galaxy and be torn apart.
Oh no! I think and begin to worry
but abruptly realize – 5 billion years, seriously!
Even I can’t be that stupid to worry
about something 5 billion years down the road
I tell myself as I see the Devil
in his corner shaking his head not
having to say anything for a change.
Jonathan Hayes
Jonathan Hayes lives along the San Lorenzo River in Santa Cruz, California with his wife and their cat. He is the editor / publisher of the long-running literary journal Over the Transom. His chapbook, Purposeful Accident, was released by Holy&intoxicated Publications, England, 2022.
The following work is Copyright © 2023, and owned by Jonathan Hayes and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
New Year’s 2023, Santa Cruz
Like the Thom Gunn poem
Blues for the New Year, 1997
An atmospheric river
On December 31st
Over the Bay
A Pineapple Express
While an actual pineapple
From Safeway sits
On our kitchen counter
Craving hot noodles in a Tenderloin café
We lay
On the mattress
Disheveled w/ sheets and blankets
Along w/ the cat
Who knows:
There are no birds, today
W/ no electricity
We burn our candles
Until, the refrigerator
Randomly announces w/
A sudden “hum”
That the power is back on
And the peaceful stillness of silence, gone
