L.I.

during lethal injection you begin to snore loudly.

Then the snores become progressively quiet.

Through the witness window a survivor of the fallen

tries to catch a final glimpse of you lip-syncing words

of forgiveness but pride wont allow the satisfaction

you could easily be describing what the Gulls do

in August over Lake Michigan. Catching insects

in the air. Nesting in the Hawthorns on the banks

during mating season

because being put to death is like writing your

name in Pepsi or Epson salt where each

indelible syllable rests, then wanders off. Each

sandy beach for the condemned, another dark

pillar of eternal faith.

Last evening, in my armada of joy,

I rode the wind like a warm prostitute

rides the passenger seat of the 02 Grand Caravan.

Shuffling the sliding doors then kicking off

a heel on a clean floor mat. Assuming

that restful, heavenly position.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Ed is right, you are a shooting star with the depths your works take on...
assuming that heavenly position, regardless of where we are going to go...as that snore subsides, maybe it would have been best to ask for forgiveness but then, arrogant in life, arrogant in death...
and that warm prostitute...was it really worth it for one night of fun? is life worth it, if prostitute ourselves to mortal crime?

[emmajoy]

Your writing is always, yes, always - full of feelings, a scale of emotions for the reader to select according to personal thought. But this reaches something else inside me, not sure what it is, perhaps a topsy-turvy appraisal of content and what it all means start, middle and finish. There's little guesswork yet.. tis how it ends that the reader needs accept or refute.

[ANTO]

there is so much in this Dana - its literally stuffed with great imagery and similie and clever wordplay and dark wit.
In the first stanza I had to get my head around the image of someone dying in a depraved way while the 'witness' seeks a wiping clean of their own conscience after all - an eye for an eye was ordained by God not man.
so commonplace have the f**k-ups occurred with this form of barbarity that we might as well be talking about the weather. Powerful, powerful, powerful!!

I loved the phrase 'armada of joy' - it recalls the phrase 'caravan of love' for me - I dont know what that means in terms of its symbolism but I know that it must have affected me enough to have fired those particular synapses and associated memories.

The uber-cool-similie of teh prostitute and her extra-vehicular activities puts this write into another dimension altogether.

It feel at the end like the narrator is saying all this madness occurs so commonly now that its 'just another day at the office' or after the office. And so, until tomorrow...

Another level Dana, another level.

[W.k.kortas]

This shouldn't work, really--the emphasis on the peaceful and pastoral (the snoring of slumber, the gentle imagery of gulls on Lake Michigan) as well as the downright off-beat (the "writing your/name in Pepsi" or the prostitute in the '02 Grand Caravan, and woe to the poor hooker who is down enough on her luck to end up that vehicle), but it's so well built and the use of the language is so deft, that the damn thing is just magic. I've said it before, and I'll say it again--I have no clue how you do that, but I'm so thankful you do.

[Steven]

The observations! Highlighting just the right things, like the way the light reflects back and forth between a glossy cherry and an upturned dab of whipped cream on a sundae.

Yes.

[nazia]

Saw your name in top reviewers but I guess you are one of the best poets I have read till date on this site.
Fantastic work.. From expression to the tone, style and the note at which you close it. Bravo..

[Amare]

Hmm, anxious to read more of your work.

[Ed Hart]

i'm about out of accolades, so i'll just note i dropped by and am mountainously impressed, again (oh, i might add that not many of us in these parts will catch a larger public notice, but you...you're a shooting star)