ovember 2-8, 1998: Phil Taggart and Linda Etheridge

Week of November 2, 1998-November 8, 1998

Phil Taggart and Linda Etheridge

Phil Taggart


Phil Taggart lives in Ventura, California has 2 kids and 5 cats He started/ran poetry readings at various coffee houses in Camarillo, Santa Barbara and Ventura most notably: Cafe Voltaire-Ventura,  Green Dragon-Santa Barbara, The Insomniac-Ventura, The Daily Grind-Ventura member, California Poets in the Schools Phil wrote for NEXT Magazine He is the poetry editor for Art/Life Limited Editions and co-director of the Ventura Poetry Festival He also is the producer and co-host for “Open Mic” a poetry/spoken word video program Phil recently finished a libretto for an opera that is to be released in April ’99 and has a chapbook out on Mille Grazie Press, “Opium Wars”

The following work is Copyright © 1998, and owned by
Phil Taggart and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.


Totem kitty pink
handbags rejoice
banality caressed
black vinyl
well healed
so fist
around the middle
eyes animal
glaze in waiting
for the dish
to be

Sugar & Flour

stare fat
morsel fried sweet
child with child
and child hungry
for dreams to
rise above vision
cracked torn
survival numbed
to die


Smell warm
from kisses flush
in face your
breasts damp in
passion tongue
teeth on flesh swell
belly navel lick
ginger hair coy(s)
ah, fingers tongue
tickles know


Culture liit
lest rot
stuns deaf
punctures eye
torn in tongue
monkey lab worn
how rats
see penitent blade

Linda Etheridge


I am a published poet Currently on the web, I have a poem on the Pittsburg Quarterly, Mocha Memories, The Poetry Exchange and others I have been published in 3 Connecticut Newspapers (poems), and two essays also in Ct Newspapers Also, recently accepted for Anthology I recently won an honorable mention in a local contest I reside in a the quiet New England town of New Milford, with a silly putty grey cat and my boyfriend, an artist.

The following work is Copyright © 1998, and owned by
Linda Etheridge and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.


Within the split personality
seconds of our companionship,
here amidst barren, mid-February
small town Americana early 1990’s,
you are as close to me
as I am to myself In and out of hazd oblivion
detours from level, fireside calm,
you are near to my essence
soothing that ancient,
maddening sorrow of lonliness
and destructive grief This is superior to the confines
of marriage that has grown
over the years You, and your gifted ways
provide tender wisdom
a spirit of rejuvenation
from that which has ripped us
both apart- death of long term love In this winter’s dead heat space
we grow inside,
there is grace and tolerance Te adoro, mi amigo.

Compo Beach

Deep night
bitter chilled The moon in the distance
spreads cold fire
lighting the sky Down below
cold matted ground
no heat from the glowing orange
only a shaft of brightness
hard and long A few people
lie below this moon
as time focuses colors
for dawn.


The bed held us both
on your side
you read your sly-spy story
moved your toes
to stretch a sigh
as the moon outside
crept slow in autumn freeze On my side
I was away in sleep thought
(did you touch me quiet
by your mouth
on my back, my elbow?)
As I slept
I was moved by the mind,
finding myself at an edge
meant to topple and die It was in a room
in a chalet
all in black and white
like your tweed coat From top to bottom
there was great distance
I almost lost
but you saved me
with your glance I awoke in one piece.

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