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  April 2015
volume 12 number 1
-table of contents-
  home   (archived)
  contributing poets
  Adeolu Emmanuel Adesanya
  Lynn Albanese
  Steven Alvarez
  Jonathan Beale
  Stefanie Bennett
  Jack G. Bowman
  Jennifer Bradpiece
  Don Kingfisher Campbell
  Michael Aaron Casares
  Beverly M. Collins
  William Crawford
  Pijush Kanti Deb
  Elisabeth Adwin Edwards
  John Elison
  Emily Fernandez
  Jeanie Greensfelder
  John Grey
  David Herrle
  Sonika Jaggi
  Strider Marcus Jones
  Phillip Larrea
  Emma Lee
  Marieta Maglas
  Matt McGee
  Christopher Mulrooney
  Dave Nordling
  Toti O'Brien
  Greg Patrick
  James G Piatt
  Frank Praeger
  April Salzano
  David Scriven
  LB Sedlacek
  Danielle Smith
  Jan Steckel
  Carl Stillwell
  Tim Tipton
  Philomena van Rijswijk
  Wanda Vanhoy Smith
  mailing list
John Elison
April 2015



photo by richard lee miller

    John LaMar Elison has lived a life reading between the lines, finding the good seat on bad bus trips, and hunting amongst the stacks. He writes and fights and bathes by candlelight. His poetry may be reminiscent of letters from prison, but John has never served time.




Dim-bulbed and happy faced
with an overclocked pace and moments
lost. Too cold to dance, I'm left
to ponder, alone. My Atlas
shrugged. Wondering if
the world's not really flat, because
I feel like I've
found the edge.
Is it true? If so, where do I go
from here? Someone want to
call Columbus or should I? Because
somebody has been lyin' and a confession
is in order. Where was my catcher in
the rye?
Caught up in my own sense of
Directionless and duty-
This is where the sidewalk ends
but I can't call retreat.
So, I'll
just be soap box standing
like a Cracker Jack commander
with a call behind
Go home,
while I take a long look
from here.

copyright 2015 John Elison