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Editor's Note


SNR's Writers


Their Honeymoon



lost in kimberlite

diamond and coal

shoveling out

a pan in Arkansas



where will we go


their wedding, ours


with the water hose



daylight turns to




stop your smacking



another time, another tune

what is love


a Santa Claus machine

quests for union


what if we never returned

to our wedding, theirs


a map in the glovebox

and I never read it



I got romantic in my usual way


the starting spot

that vacant spot


we ordered Liebfraumilch


you remember that


turned on the TV

as if to forgot some presence


at the motel in Hot Springs

you had never wanted to sing

you tore your nightgown




the spa, the cure


we shared a tenderloin

called it dinner

in the moist and heavy breath
all the undress of a knot


I bit your earlobe, made you shout

beyond forgot broken felt
glass of smooth cherry lips


already pregnant,

you found a snake bit kit in a gift shop


I read your signal, I was prescient


1) small blade, listed as scalpel

2) tourniquet, not listed as tourniquet, listed something like personal binding rope

3) suction thingee, device, listed as suction thingee, just kidding

4) instructions




the baby became our best hope


or, please don’t tell that Tonto and Lone Ranger joke


was there something I forgot to purchase


I’m four again, I’m superman


until I jump and fail to fly

through the secret side-effect of your lies,

you must admit I'm only five


but I was four



I adored you like the mirror


you always said IT was my mother


please wake me if you see her car


Charlie Brown, Peanuts

my lunchbox, my Thermos


about grown, child again


raining, the dark

cool as a cave, forgetting




once upon a time, in the car

she hollered


the shadow


now sitting, waiting

time, the time, in my treehouse


no idea


my lunch, the peanut butter

the chips


an alphabet


scratching the tree trunk

with my pocketknife


last night


the last time my dog Lucy barked

on the front porch, her dog corpse


the wound

(or was it the shadow?)


a cow must have kicked her

I tried not to cry


this morning, milked dry


I've decided, school no more—



proved only Symbolic


and I missed you


this twist, this turn of words



milk in her purse


a hole in the wind,

my longing


whose circuit

            the end—


sky erupts


clock, reverbs, reverbs the clock


approximate helicopter


 a child missing


it’s _______, I’m lost






I went searching

            no promise



pair of shoes

hands huge with grief


the medication was not enough


I had to leave for work

the car parked





she says to me


a wall made of sea shells

if we had lived by the sea


a department store mannequin

if we had lived near the city


a dress for the mannequin

if you didn’t have a wife


but I had you long enough


a clock made of rubber bands

if we had had the supplies


the house on paper

the death, the good-bye




Copyright 2008, Jeff Crouch. © This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.

Jeff Crouch is a writer in Grand Prairie, Texas. Most recently, his writing has appeared in such places as Above Ground Testing, Cautionary Tale, The Cerebral Catalyst, The Delinquent, DOGZPLOT, elimae, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Laika Poetry Journal, Mastodon Dentist, and MG Version 2. His work can also be found at his usual haunts: Literary Chaos and The Houston Literary Review. But Jeff Crouch also enjoys collaborations with other artists, and his follow collaborators have included Cece Chapman, Christopher Woods, Diana Magallon, Jim Leftwich, and Matina Stamatakis. See his artwork at Ascent Aspirations, The Blue Print Review, Events Weekly, moria, and textimagepoem.