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News

LexPoMo 2020 Selections from Jay McCoy

It’s the season of gratitude! Thanks to Jay McCoy we have selections for the 2020 anthology! Take a moment to revisit the work you wrote and the work of your peers.

Remember! I’m printing enough copies for everyone to get one. You can either support lexpomo on Patreon or I’ll reach out for shipping (when the book is printed) to get your copy. Supporting with Patreon allows us to grow our community!

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A. A. Katecorn
A. LawrenceGoodbyes
Aaron RedingOperating Theater
AbraDecomposing
ABWSUM
Allen BlairStrings
Alvera LisabethShard-Strewn Waves
Amanda HoltThis Poem is Privileged
Amanda JattaLandmines
Amy RichardsonFlourish
Anastasia Z. CunninghamInauguration
Andrea LawlerFireflies
Andrew DepewTaking in the Day’s News:
Anna WalshBefore the Rug was Pulled
anndevil2-Jun
Anne HaydenFood
Arianna McCurryUnparalleled in Beauty
Ashley TaylorSunday Dinner
atmospheriquecan i just be a ghost already?
austen rWaning Gibbous
Austin GreenVisitors
Austin RathboneFlat Circle
B. Elizabeth BeckI have no poem inside me
B. G.Breathes Different
Beatrice Underwood-SweetEvening
Bernard DevilleLeaning on the Spade
Bethany RobinsonSuperstition
BlackGirlFliInvocation
Body BaghdadStatement before their statement
Brigit Truexheart-wood
Bronson O-QuinnJK Rowling and the Excuses to Hate
BukWill and Acceptance
Callie Budrickdream flowers
Carole Johnstonsplit screen
Carrie SpillmanJupiter’s Moons
Chaiya MillerUPSIDE DOWN
Chayton RagsdalePast
Chelsea Jordanrock candy
Christina Joyonion-skin
Christopher McCurryParallel Universe
cl kirbychallenges of raising a heart.
CleoHide ‘N Seek
CocoCreation Speaks
Cody EvansAfraid of the Mailman (God, I Hope He Never Reads This)
Dangerfield YellaNine hours to the coast or dance with me
David NealAn Ant’s Jog
Deanna MascleFactory Settings
Debbie Adams CooperRemember that June
Debra Glennjust me, alone
Dennis J. PrestonChoir
Doug SelfLove
Dwight MyfeltStumped
E. VanWinkle-JohnsonAlchemy has Nothing to do with Gold
Eileen RushMy personal hell
Erin MathewsSee You Later
Erin ThieryGirl from the salt licks
Finna Moon MichaelsWelcome to The Government
Gaby BedettiRadishes
Garkus SprunkA Goodly Couple of Days Ago
GeriMissing Poems
Gregory D. WelchOctober in a June Sky
H. A. SpinelliOcean
Harold ShermanENEMIES OF THE PAST
HB Elamonce more
HeatherannieReasons to Walk
Helen FeibesShe’s fluent when she’s drunk
hunter e. westenhoferevery morning seems to be a small infinity
J. F. AngelSo in Love
j. hopeHoney, Glass, and things that shine
J. WiseI never ever
j.l taylortwenty five not twenty one
Jamie MannThe Fork
jane Science
Janelle M.I heard Someone call another Someone trash
Jasmine RobinsonFor my father
Jay McCoysleep/wake
Jennifer BarricklowSideways
Jennifer BeckettOrder of Worship
Jennifer BurchettClothesline
Jerielle HanlonWhat kind of animal would you be?
Jessica SwaffordLet It Burn
Jim LallyDead Man’s Fingers
John LackeyThe Answer
John McCurryBart
Jordan QuinnFat Crayons
Jordan T. SwiftLysergic Radiance
Joseph Allen NicholsLepidopteran
Joseph Grosswhat’s Cool
Josey BryantControl
K. Bruce FlorencePine Mountain Cemetery XX The Stolen Yucca
K. Nicole WilsonSink Full of Dishes
Karen GeorgeHow Sound is a Spark
Katelyn WeldonPainting Our Room
Katerina StoykovaMAN PAGES: BREAK COMMAND
Kathleen CrosmerSpecter Speculations
Kathleen GreggReading List
Katie Cross Gibsonsome nights, a heart turns heavy
Katie HassallStorm Clouds on the Horizon
Katrin Floreson June
kelly caseyblue
Ken L. WalkerUntitled
Kendall Brookestardust
Kim Kayne ShaverIt Must Be Sharon
Kimberly BartonShine
Kris GillisWas the Poem
Kristi MaxwellMinus the Loss
Kristina ErnyPoison
l. holleyGarden
laneyi was always told you can determine how well someone takes care of themselves by looking at their fingernails
Larkin FoxSeventy-Two Seasons
Larry WheelerM.J.B.T.W. (with apologies to Donald Fagen and “Bright Nightgown “)
Laura Foleyin the backwaters of the Orion arm
Leahna MarcumUseless Prince
Leatha KendrickHer Cigarettes
Lennart LundhThe Least of These
Les DavisEuphemism
Leslie WorkmanLove in the Middle
Linda AngeloMy Garden, My Companion
Linda BryantMy Grandfather as a River Saint 
Linda FreudenbergerIt’s the Normal Things
Lisa Miller HenrySerenade
Little BirdWings
Liz PratherThat Willoughby Girl
Lori TaylorWise Cracks
M L StephensVisitation
M. WellsThe City
Maddie ColemanOne Mississippi
Madeleine Hamiltonmanners and class
Madison MillerOn Writing a Poem While the World is on Fire
Maggie BrewerYes Ma’am
Maggie Rue HessOn Average
Maggie Ruththere’s something to be said about packing
Malinda O’QuinnSauerkraut 6/9
ManiWords of Warning Sewn into a Hymn
manny jgvoices
Margaret R. HeltzelThis Collection of Junk
Margaret RussellFree
Marta DortonRitual
Mary AllenArtifacts
Matt SpencerDeath of a Naturalist
Maya H. H. PembleThe Frost Does Not Exist For Our Gaze
Meghan GoinsInertia
Megynpoison tongue
Melissa HeltonLife and Death in the Daniel Boone National Forest
Melissa Olsonlight years
Melva Sue PriddySurrounded by books, papers, houseplants, gardens out the windows, new grass growing, thunder booming, lights, lots of lights, 
Mike WilsonIndustrial Design
Misty SkaggsDecorating Day
Morgan EvansSevere Winds
Morghan FullerThey/Them
mtpoetIf, while you sleep,
Nancy K. JentschSweetened Milky Chai
Naomi ClewettA List of Disciplines Chanted as a Cause and Cure for Wounded Souls
Nettie FarrisClearly
nrdit does
Pat OwenPacking
Patrick JohnsonWant
Paula DixonHolding the knife
Pauletta HanselDrought
Philip CorleyDeodatus
purplesellerIn Solitude
rachel bollmanRide
Rachel DorrohParticle
RaeThankful
Rayny Palmeronce again
rebecca turneyjune 1 part 2
Regan StrehlStorm > Sun
Rena NuttCountry Cousins
Renee RigdonStill Rockin’ All of the Time
RevaGo with the Flow
Rivka Goldwyn“Oh, Give Me A Home”
Roberta SchultzI Try to Remember Your Phone Number
Roger RabbitMother Duck
Ryan OppegardLittle Prince
SamThe First Visit
Sam ShowalterDaydreaming
Samantha RatcliffeMemorial Day
Scott Wilsonkindred
Sean L. CorbinRidge Cap
Shaun TurnerThe Mudcrab Pretending to Be A Rock
stefani joighost
Stephanie MojicaWhen This Is Over
Steve CummingsSelf-inflicted lobotomy
Steve DaughertyGenesis
Sue ChurchillSharp Eyed
Sue Leatherstranslated
Susan M. StephensPlease fill this space intentionally left blank
Susie SlusherRed Over Red Flag: Water Is Closed to Public Use
Suzanne GilmoreWork Space
Sylvia AhrensSongs in the Key of Darkness
T. D. Worthingtonwitness
t. m. tomsonVending Machine
Tabitha DialEmpires of Liminal Spaces
TaniaDrowned
Taylor A. ArmstrongHeart of Darkness//Things Fall Apart
Teja Sudhakarrunning buffalo clover
the bluegrass warblera little bit of pretty
The Philosophical PhysicistAsh Brushed Across Eyes
Tillie the Toilerpricks
Tina ParkerReading the obits
Toko_birdDry Drowning
Tony SextonON THE WAY TO HAZEL GREEN
Tony WhearySidetracked will
upfromsumdirtgod troubles the waters
V. Joshua AdamsMy Climate
Venicia ProctorI Hugged Someone Today
Vincent HoupFrom Sa to Pa
wendyjettApothecary
WhitneyStolen Kiss
William GoinsLamentations of a Warehouse Worker
Category
Poem

Today’s Good Samaritan

Seeking justification by checklist,
the Biblical lawyer asks who is my neighbor.  

Jesus answers by redefining neighbor,
nullifying any definition that limits love.  

I have been every person in the parable he tells—the one who helped,
the ones who walked by, the one in desperate need  

trying not to sink under the weight of evil and sickness.
God, in multiple ways, our nation can’t breathe.  

We need revolutionary mercy and today’s Good Samaritan,
who will wear a mask and still be considered pariah by the loudest voices.  

The Samaritan  will be mocked, yet walk to the need,
hand extended to clean away blood spilled by power or sickness or thieves.  

He or She or They will honor, carry a burden, pay
to preserve the dignity of a stranger. 

Let live mercy, hands and feet and heart of God

Category
Poem

Joan Didion

I wanna be Joan Didion cool
Aloof & unafraid

Chili pepper lips
& oversized sunnies

Strolling the streets of San Francisco
Spring of ‘67

 

Category
Poem

Way She Goes

Had some words in my head
That sounded good
Until they didn’t.

Category
Poem

advent by the river

i’ve begun to view the world–
every experience of our existance–
as bookends;
from dust to dust,
from dirt to dirt,
and from the mouth and spring
of the river leading to the ocean.
bless this water
from which we all came.

the sun is blocked
by the canopy of trees
folding themselves, leaf by leaf,
over the chorus of the water
that is a culmination
of all the tears, hurt,
suffering, despair, and devistation
of our lives–a sacrificial ecosphere.

small flowers with blue blooms
grow up from the graveyard soil
where a deer carcass rests–
a carapace of a soul.
we are the two reddish orange buds
lying alone in the dead, grey leaves
with no potential home nearby–
they must have blown in
with the wind.

my life seems to be an ode
to love and words–a dedication
to these things–my breath
seems to give life. what is love?
how can you describe
the rich complexities
of this deep, mysterious rivine
of passion?

our relationship is like those
reddish orange buds–blown in
haphazardly while the sun shines down
on our friendship as we discuss
our futures and the small
epiphanies of ourselves.

i screamed in your car, today.
(one of the many pinnacles
of our connection) my yell
was bred from the pain
of my issues; we realized
i need a lover who can
care for me like a child,
a small, helpless infant.

later, you had ice cream
on the tip of your nose.
there is something precious
and silent and perfect
about this,
about you,
about us.

everything exists as a bookend.
i know where the bookend
that holds our memories together
started (you say that that memory
lives poignantly in your mind)
but i pray that the end to this
is far in the future. it is. it is.

today, between teases,
in a focused daze,
you told me that
you wanted to watch my childhood
videos to see my mom
(who reminds me of you)
and hear her voice.
it is.
it is.

Category
Poem

Last hurrah

Rah-rah-rah, I run my thumb over the mottled plastic of the bleachers
As the yellow wood gym floor squeak-squeak-squeaks under sneakers.
A girl next to me who I don’t- never talk to hah-hah-hah snickers
And like a staticky channel flip my vision blink-blink-blink flickers.
When-where-what-who-why am I again?

Category
Poem

Rekindling

Like stepping through sepia
photographs, déjà vu 
pooling in frayed sneakers
as I pace through streets
heavy with revolving-door
families bathed in streetlight halos,
late-night arguments heard
through cheap drywall,
plywood crossbeams gutted-
these houses are hollow gods,
we scaled their ribs as children,
promethean in search of self
always reaching for the pantheon
of adulthood, we combed
our lives for something worth striving 
for, I surrounded myself with artists
furthering their craft, molded myself 
in their image, a faltering echo
of a poet finding his voice in the cacophony
only to lose it for years,
meandering through the wreckage
of a life without direction, ragdoll
body washing up on the shore of June,
adrift in a new sea of voices
singing songs of sorrow and certainty
that when day breaks we’ll find
salvation in the wake of abaddon
and it’s like coming home again.

Category
Poem

a little bit of pretty

to wash away the brutal 
germanic rooted word thrusts i call

poetry, let us rest 

a bit in the cool shade of the buttress knobbed poplar
leaves lilting in the sentient stalking breeze, i will even

strike up a little latin, loosen up some cadence i will let the syllables
slack and canter and for christsake perhaps even gallivant; we will eat pink 

blueberries drunk on june sky and lemonade sun and the neighbors lawn mower going on and on into the cricket dusk window fan; buzz and semi-circle whirl, we might

as well oscillate among the kicked off covers and the reruns and the leftovers in the  fridge from the meal we ate in silence like monks but for the wind 

chimes make me miss the cigarette 
smoke of my elders, wrap us in 
cutlery sounds clinking on

plates we wash together,
by god, by honeysuckle,
by now and evering ever

Category
Poem

untitled

i am a song.

sometimes i play too loud,
get stuck in your head.
sometimes i hold the sound
of memories in my notes,
send you on a journey
inside yourself.
i am a song.
sometimes i am
the only one who understands at all,
the only one you want to hear from,
the only way through.
i am a song 
that always 
takes you home, no matter 
the years or miles.
your heart feels the rhythm,
and there you are. 
i am a song.
just as the wound is 
maybe, finally healing–
with a lyric unexpected
or a feeling you’d rejected–
i cut back down to bone.
Category
Poem

Someone Said It’s OK If You Can Just Send Money

I bust out a bottle of summer rose’
fill up a bright blue plastic beer cup
half full with wine,
check to see if it’s all in my belly pack—
flashlight, cell phone, bio-degradable poo-poo bags.

The dog has the leash in his mouth,
teeth clenched on it,
shaking it like it’s a mole he just nabbed.

We go for our evening walk,
the sky bends from blue to indigo,
a red streak fading.

A helicopter has been circling
slowly for almost every night now, 
the dog is spooked by the sound, 
he cowers—we are out after curfew.

Less than 3 miles away
are the protests:  Justice for Breonna
Less than 5 miles away, on Chestnut,
the windows of my son’s bar, shattered,
bricks and bats, but really
anger, rage, desperation, disgust: 
Justice for Breonna.

40 or so years ago I would join them—
chanting, raging, walking night after night
in sticky relentless heat:  Justice Justice
Justice for Breonna,
down Broadway to Baxter to
Bardstown Road and back:
Justice for Breonna.

I can’t go—my husband’s big heart tied
into knots depending on a battery to keep pace,
at-risk during this pandemic,
we are locked-down,
the pandemic has opened the Pandora’s box:
inequities of all kinds revealed—many vulnerable–
many lives at stake.

So many lives at stake–
I drop off a pallet of water bottles at a curb,
hope the protesters find it,
send money to Dare to Care, the Humane Society,
the local bail fund, the KY Covid 19 fund:
Justice for Breonna
Justice
So many lives at stake.