Practicing

The feeling was gone from my finger
and the only thing falling through the hoop
was an occasional snow flurry

- Michael Ceraolo

Definition of a Cult

- any religion
whose originator
is still alive

- Michael Ceraolo

Epiphany

The sun sat high in the azure sky

The heat from the concrete warmed my bare feet

The squirrels and bees were busy
while the skunks and mosquitoes waited for nightfall

Bird and dog songs were heard,
and the calls of crickets and frogs remembered

A gentle breeze was whispering in the trees
Life is the prerequisite for any ideal

- Michael Ceraolo

Street Story (12)

I was walking down the street from the coffeehouse to the library
He was walking down the street to and from no place in particular
I was talking to my self, though inaudible to others,
in composing this poem in my head
He was talking to himself quite audible to others,
screaming incomprehensible things
at the passing motorists,
at the passing pedestrians,
at the passing buidings.
Those we passed considered both of us a different species.

- Michael Ceraolo

Street Story (13)

The chemical-electrical disturbance of the brain
called paranoid schizophrenia
caused her to wander around outside barefoot
on a day of subzero temperatures,
sustaining frostbite on both feet;
caused her to deny later that gangrene was setting in;
and so caused her
to have both feet amputated.

- Michael Ceraolo



All poems copyright 2004 by the authors. Zine designed by Kathy Walker.