A Criminal Grammar

The comma of a yoke just light enough

Seems bearable against abrupt sacrifice

To heads worn smooth by idle thought

In balance with truth, justice and the lives

Of students and the dispossessed

A light yoke yet writes the poetry of relief

On young hearts, and social idealism

Which is detained roughly

Criminally tried

Sentences full of abbreviated nouns

And aborted verbs are handed

Down by the upright and shy of sacrifice

While in far-off lands clear-eyed poets

Decry tyranny and the use of semi-colons

In equal measure; they walk free

And pay no fare




By Jason Anderson



The sun gathers in wrinkles on late afternoon sheets

Breeze-scattered energy highlights an intemperate body

A cat grudges to recover a beam


I am not whole nor was I meant

What is not burns for all that is

And spins in the vacuous intermission


This room won’t be sun-filled nor cleared by a wind

Cat and I shift uneasily on empty sheets

One ravenous for flesh

The other stalking an eternal sunbeam


By Jason Anderson



But why does the cat always have to be on my side of the bed?