Kate LaDew

A MAN DREDGED A RIVER

an 18-ton digger slicing through the water
sediment hurled away
leaving the salmon and trout
and bullhead and minnows gasping
the otters and mink scurrying
the kingfisher and sand martin's bellies empty
a man dredged a river
stripped every wildflower
and tree and bush
and blade of grass
to build a road to his home
and then he went to jail
ecological vandalism
on an industrial scale
and as he sat in the corner
and thought about what he'd done
nature creeped little by little
back to the dredged river
the wildflowers grew
and the trees grew
and the bushes grew
and the salmon and trout
and bullhead and minnows swam
and the otters and mink played
and the kingfishers flew
and the sand martins sang
and everything went back to how it was
the mile-long scar
down the middle of it all
covered over entirely by green
and buzzing things
and full-throated
gleaming life


Gerald So's YouTube reading of "a man dredged a river"


Kate confesses: "I came across an article online about a farmer who destroyed miles of land for his own purposes. While I don't agree with his actions, I didn't write the poem to shame him. I was simply amazed by how, when left alone, the world rights itself."

Kate LaDew is a graduate from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro with a BA in Studio Arts. She grew up in Hammond, Louisiana and lives in Graham, NC with her cats James Cagney and Janis Joplin.

David Anson Lee

TAX EXEMPT

The chapel carries a donor’s name
carved deep enough to outlive theology.

So does the stadium,
the laboratory,
the business school where futures are priced
in credit hours and compound interest.

At orientation, freshmen are issued
lanyards, passwords, a map
that loops back to debt.

The university expands like a body
forgetting where pain begins:
roots descending from branches,
branches feeding roots,
a system that mistakes growth for virtue.

The adjunct teaches in the blue light
of a refrigerator open too long.

Somewhere, a quarterback signs autographs
beneath a screen the size of weather.

At commencement, caps rise
like startled birds released too early
into air they cannot afford.

Years later,
the birds return
as monthly statements
that never learned mercy.


Gerald So's YouTube reading of "Tax Exempt"


David confesses: "This poem emerged from observing how moral responsibility can be obscured when harm is mediated through systems that are legally protected yet ethically ambiguous. I was interested in how language of exemption can also function as a form of emotional distancing."

DAVID ANSON LEE is a retired ophthalmologist, educator, and poet born on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. A former endowed chair and professor of ophthalmology, his poems explore medicine, ethics, identity, history, and the hidden costs of institutional life. His work has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies.

Jennifer Lagier

APOCALYPSE NOW

Ooh war, I despise
'Cause it means destruction of innocent lives
War means tears, to thousands of mother's eyes
When their sons go off to fight and lose their lives

–lyrics to the song "War" by Edwin Starr


Morning headlines announce anti-war icon,
Country Joe McDonald has died.
We remember his name from Vietnam,
Woodstock, the Fish cheer, Veterans for Peace.
As our government mimics Nazi Germany,
pacificists mourn loss of charismatic leaders,
lament Reverand Jesse Jackson’s passing.

Targeting an Iranian girls’ school,
the U.S. annihilates students and teachers,
massacres civilians as part of a campaign
to distract from full Epstein files disclosure.
Online photos of open graves
illustrate the magnitude of our moral failures.

In the Pacific Ocean,
heavily armed military operations
burn through taxpayer dollars,
ignore due process to assassinate fishermen
they suspect to be drug runners,
deliberately slaughter frantically waving survivors.

Washington D.C. resembles a festering sewer
where the rich and powerful buy politicians,
pervert rule of law, protect their own interests.
Daily, the body count rises.
Our country’s crimes against humanity
continue to burgeon.


Jennifer's YouTube reading of "Apocalypse Now"


Jennifer confesses: "Here we go again, another senseless war based on lies, designed to distract from the corruption and malfeasance of the current administration."

JENNIFER LAGIER lives a block from the stage where Jimi Hendrix torched his guitar. She has published twenty-five books and in a variety of anthologies and literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edited the Homestead Review, currently edits the Monterey Poetry Review, helps publicize Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Saturday readings. Website: jlagier.net, Facebook: www.facebook.com/JenniferLagier/

F.I. Goldhaber

LUNCH

Sorry to learn that your cat disappeared.
It is always best to keep felines and
other pets safe inside. Because there are
majestic Red-tail hawks circling above
who don't distinguish between fur-covered
prey. They just snatch another tasty meal;
their nature and hunger absolving their crime.


F.I.'s YouTube reading of "Lunch"


F.I. confesses: "'Lunch' was inspired by missing pet flyers constantly posted in a neighborhood where Red-tail (as well as Cooper's and Swainson's) hawks and coyotes regularly hunt. In reality, the true criminals are pet owners who allow their furry wards to wander unsupervised and thereby put their lives at risk."

F.I. GOLDHABER's words capture people, places, and politics with a photographer's eye and a poet's soul. As a reporter, editor, and business writer, they produced news stories, feature articles, editorial columns, and reviews for newspapers, corporations, governments, and non-profits in five states. Now paper, plastic, electronic, and audio magazines, books, newspapers, calendars, broadsides, and street signs display their poetry, fiction, and essays. Almost 260 of their poems appear in more than 90 publications including What Color is Your Privilege?, their political poetry collection published by Left Fork press. http://www.goldhaber.net/