David Anson Lee

SKIN IN THE GAME

The captains inspected every life jacket
with the tenderness of people
who will never need them.

They tightened straps, issued forms,
circulated safety memoranda
written in calm ink.

Their own jackets remained locked
behind glass doors
in offices with carpet thick enough
to muffle consequence.

From the bridge, the sea was theoretical:
a diagram of possibility,
a risk-adjusted horizon.

Passengers attended seminars
on resilience, preparedness, personal responsibility.

Some learned to float.
Some learned to disappear quietly.
Some learned the mathematics of blame.

When the storm arrived,
it arrived without consultation.

The captains stayed dry
long enough to explain
that water behaves unpredictably
when observed from above.


Gerald So's YouTube reading of "Skin in the Game"


David confesses: "This poem examines asymmetries of risk and accountability in institutional decision-making, where consequences are often borne by those least able to influence outcomes. It asks what it means when exposure to harm is unevenly distributed."

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.

This is Probably the End

Blogger is updating its content policy effective December 16, 2026. Updates include prohibition of criminal acts and, while I don't think poetry about crime equals crime, The Five-Two's goal is to look unflinchingly at crime. The only way to do that is to mention crime fairly directly, maybe too directly for a Blogger blog.

Blogger allows artistic and entertainment portrayals, but what distinguishes crime poetry is its reality. I aimed to show crime as it is, what it genuinely brings out of poets, not to desensitize anyone by making it more entertaining, more palatable fiction.

As editor, I tried to keep the poetry non-graphic, but Blogger's content reviewers may disagree with where I draw the line. In fourteen years, I've received one notice of a post being put behind a senstive content warning, but I was unable to determine which post. I don't want to run into this problem with future posts.

I'm not seeking a more permissive platform. I've had my editorial say on all manner of crimes, and I don't feel the need to continue for my own gratification. That's why Blogger's policy change may be the best time to end.

Thanks to everyone who's contributed to the site in any way. I need to accept five new submissions to make it to Monday, December 14. Send 'em. Let's go out with a bang.

Tonia Kalouria

SOME EASY MISDEMEANOR IDEAS FOR THE CRIMINALLY-CHALLENGED

(Just be sure you are in the designated states)

In Alabama, drive blindfolded: It’s illegal.
Perhaps they fear you’ll hit a lonely, lost, Bald Eagle.

In Arizona...Put your donkey in the bathtub,
and leave it long enough to fall asleep.
...I’m guessing that it also is illegal,
with cat, dog, bird, giraffe or even cows and sheep.

In California...Just Whistle-up that lost canary
before the dewy, legal, hour of seven.
Don’t wait to blow your legal lungs out later:-
say, at eight, nine, ten, or even at eleven.

In Delaware...Just try to sell illegal cat or dog hair.
It makes you wonder, too, if you…might hawk illegal hare there.

In Idaho...They’re quite gung ho the roads stay clean and neat.
So, tidy up real nice then…dump the rubbish on their street.

In Indiana...You’ll be in trouble when your steed speeds over ten.
It seems they think of M.P.H. as some folks think of Zen.

In Kansas...Make your tires do that loud, ear-piercing SCREEEEETCH!
You’ll get hauled off in no time for Disturbance of the Peace!

In Louisiana...It’s Harrassment to gift a “Pizza (Pie) Surprise.”
Who knows? The shock of such goodwill might cause someone’s demise!


Gerald So reads "Some Easy Misdemeanor Ideas..."


Tonia confesses: I was truly inspired after running across an article about weird laws still on the books in many states. My Satire gene became so restless that I just had to assuage it with a good dose of humor, snark, and sarcasm.

Tonia Kalouria is a former Spanish teacher and soap actress whose poems appear at “littleoldladycomedy.com,” “poetsforscience.org.” and “Literary Veganism,” among others. Anthologies include: A Glass of Wine With Edgar, Evermore, Quoth the Raven, Yonkers, Love, V4, Striving, Poems From the Lockdown, Purr & Yowl, Nothing Ever Happens in Fox Hollow, Cosy Romance, Tails From the Bedside, and Waywords: Habits, and Classical Poets Society, Vol. X.

Craig Kirchner

PROCRASTINATION

I put everything off, stack it,
restack it, move it to another room.
I’m particularly put-offish,
sometimes rude, when told I need to,
have to or must do something.

Pondering emptying the dishwasher,
maybe after lunch,
thinking of the guys in the trenches
in World War 1, with a helmet, a rifle, the rats
and being told to go over the top.

I’ll just be a moment here,
y’all get started without me.
Nobody knew why they were there,
what they were dying for,
or if they would ever see home.

I might have jumped up in WWII,
an inglorious bastard wanting to kill Nazis,
knowing it needed to be done and why,
willing to roll through Europe with Patton,
thinking of myself as Vic Morrow.

But once again, I’m holding off
on the Bhagavad Gita and my reread
of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
I’m building momentum though, reminiscing
about the wars I didn’t have to be in.

Pulled a good number in the Nam lottery,
wasn’t in New York for September 11,
and was too old to be needed
looking for weapons of mass-destruction in Iraq
or Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan.

Fortunately, we’ve all seen enough of such things.
Take the trash up, get the mail,
can all wait until tomorrow,
and there is no possible way anyone not Russian,
would start another war in my lifetime.


Craig's YouTube reading of "Procrastination"


Craig confesses: I have missed serving in all of America’s wars but have often thought about what it would have been like. I’ve been opposed to all in my lifetime, Vietnam, etc. I would have thought after the idiocy of Iraq that no one would consider a war in the Middle East.

Craig Kirchner loves the aesthetics of writing, has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels, and has been nominated three times for a Pushcart. He has been published in Chiron Review, Main Street Rag and dozens of others. He houses 500 books in his office and about 400 poems on a laptop; these words help keep him straight. Craig has an interview up at Spillword and can be found on Bluesky.