Exterminating Angel Press

Creative Solutions for Practical Idealists.

poetry

Cryptic Dreams.

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by Barry Vitcov.

Before waking from a baseball game
where the right fielder was an amoeba
a limbless organism without arms
playing a position requiring the best arms
in a championship game doing the most harm.

Or was I confused?
Maybe it was a player named Joe Amoeba,
or Mickey, or Willie, or Duke.
What are these cryptic dreams we dream?
I played right field once,
a big mistake:
balls misplayed, rolling between my legs,
bouncing out of my glove.
The coach had to put me somewhere.
It was a rule.

How does Abbey dream?
What do those poodle twitches
and muffled yelps mean?
She’s a pro at fetching,
retrieving and sitting obediently
waiting for another toss.
There are no errors,
only the joy of the game,
no pride or fame.

A Piecemeal Crisis.

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by David Selzer. We are nearly two months into spring, only moments away from summer, and yet, yet, though three swifts have returned from Africa, though a pair of ungainly wood pigeons court in a neighbour’s gutter, though there are hot days perfumed with plants and bee laden, wintry winds from the north harry clouds […]

Untitled.

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by Artur Grabowski. My friend is a contractor, so everything he says is concrete. As hard as an emergenc night shift, and as short as a thirty year mortgage in quiet proximity to other mortal creatures. Our frequent arguments end in politely stubborn disagreements over the nearest place to park. See, you’ve got to be as […]

Compromise with the Air.

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by Marissa Bell Toffoli. The edge of the world glows in the evening, enchants city buildings. Take in the view from on high. Gossamer bridges span dappled bay water, the skyline floats above foundations. You stand like a lighthouse, rigid with responsibility, signaling endlessly from your precipice. Watch as a crow swoops through the scene. […]

Foul weather (a parable).

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by Artur Grabowski. (Translated by Charles S. Kraszewski) He left the house and sat down on the seashore. Over there, far away, the navy-blue stripe beneath the uncovered sky. Past it broad fields, as cold as a fish-skin fur. Further on the greenish-yellow colour of life. On the smooth strand, transparent crescents outlined in foam. […]

San Diego Zoo.

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by James Croal Jackson. after our red leash became frantic unsure of what grip the wilderness had or which eyeline to focus on oh aquamarine jewels oh black-silk storks name the artist who decided traffic was a logjam in their brain all you must do (golden hour brown on the frizz of your hair) is […]

Kitten Dreams.

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by Bruce E.R. Thompson. Feel your whiskers! The garden calls, for it will soon be night. The time has come to breach the door and scuttle out of sight. No sound will vex the silence but the calling of a loon, as, on soft paws, we creep beside the shadows of the moon. Beside an […]

Those Wild Animals Our Dreams.

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by JW James. moving slowly through the forests maybe you only get a glimpse the fox of nowhere the foxes of nothing your sensual psyche stretches across the landscape you are a deep hidden lake of everything when you drop down when you lift the skies there is no turning back and nightblack-feathered raven blocks […]

A Holding Undone.

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by Marissa Bell Toffoli. So, we speak of the past and the passed in whispers for their sake and our own; swing open the hinges of our chests offer flight to memory, aghast, we release these semiprecious stones. We speak well of the passed and the past afraid to let on when we feel pissed, […]

Alternate.

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by JW James. city of birds your open mind pulsing angels in the middle of forgotten avenues flocks of birds flying in spurs pearls raining down the strings of the cello of convalescence when we were confirmed and took saints’ names in that city we were told to choose a martyr our souls winging their […]