January 11-17, 2021: Poetry from Paul Strohm and Martina Robles Gallegos

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Paul Strohm

Paul M. Strohm has earned his initials PMS by a lifetime of male grumpiness. He left the University of Texas in Austin with a graduate degree in Information Science which he felt deprived him without any further need of education. He works as a freelance journalist in the Houston Metroplex.  His poems are scattered here and there with almost impunity. See Paul’s book’s on Amazon here.

The following work is Copyright © 2021, and owned by Paul Strohm and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

“lizards and cupcakes in my mind”

the room crackled with compressed expectation
“lizards and cupcakes in my mind”
was the first line I heard
what does it mean I thought
where is it going, I don’t understand
I turned to my friend, she silently mimed
“lizards and cupcakes in my mind”
again and again and then again
my chest pumped itself up
my heart went beating in time
“lizards and cupcakes in my mind”
the end

 

Tosca

these teachus are at me again saying
be yourforeskin but do it slant eyed
coursing down a broken bib of glass

such vocalvoids plait my singsong singing
and their this than then marmaladed tits
swells my lazarus progress to bed

I sing I hum ablative picnicked players
upon whose lips leaking ropesky looting
a crazy mitered sailor shakes old witches

my worthless piss poor wilderbeast
not passionwhiskey beautiful not yet
shielding belched by my dimwitticisms

upon my wholly pinesea cross a tree heel
utters barnyard battle aphorifics
a manic miseryaccordian hung by nails

when I constraint my ravenousness
perhaps the dragon plumboys billowing
will finally sorta forklift godlike Tosca

Martina Robles Gallegos

Martina was born and raised in Mexico and came to the United States at 14. She got a Master’s degree from Grand Canyon University after a near fatal hemorrhagic stroke . Her works have appeared in the Altadena Anthology: Poetry Review 2015, 2017, 2018, Hometown Pasadena, Spirit Fire Review, Poetry Super Highway, Vocal media, Silver Birch Press, Central Coast Poetry Shows, Basta! and more recently, in the award-winning anthology, When the Virus Came Calling: COVID-19 Strikes America, published by Golden Foothills Press, editor, Thelma T. Reyna. See Martina’s books on Amazon here, and visit here on the web here

The following work is Copyright © 2021, and owned by Martina Robles Gallegos and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Alone with the Pets

From the beginning of the pandemic,
it was just my daughter and me,
oh, yeah, and two lovebirds and a cat.
Daughter played with the cat
and I with the lovebirds.
Daughter then flew out of the nest;
well, didn’t exactly happen that way,
but I got stuck with the pets,
and pets were ok with it all.
Cat and I did miss the two-legged one,
but birds had each other, so they didn’t mind.
Solitude is fine so long as you aren’t alone,
but once you’re not ok with it,
the days keep getting longer each day.
For Thanksgiving, two siblings
came to partake in the spirit of eating
because, really, only the turkey was giving.
Didn’t make plans for Christmas
because turkey day almost experienced hell
when the temp in the oven almost
melted the stove and could’ve caused
the house to explode,
so the overcooked turkey became the joke
from then on, and every conversation we had,
somehow went back to the bird.
So, for Christmas I decided the bird had earned
a second chance, and I brought home a young one,
turkey, that is, and hoped for the best.
I’d done some research and taken some notes,
so three days before Christmas, I started
thawing the bird and planning on my mind
the steps I’d take.
The day before Christmas I dressed it all up
but the stuffing just wasn’t quite right
because I’d gotten something for salad instead,
but no meal is complete without me making sure
something goes awry, but at least this time,
the turkey didn’t complain, and I shared with a sibling
who picked his doggy bag from the porch.
I then ate Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve,
and it was just the turkey, cat, and me.
Things quickly turned like 360 degrees,
but I’ll save that one chat perhaps for New Year’s.