by Cher Bibler
The street at the end of the world
quietly, quietly, it’s calling you
your soul throbs in spite of itself
you’ve closed your ears to the sound
but the vibrations shake your core
you find yourself looking for it even though you
swore you wouldn’t
it’s the place you can almost see when
you stumble home drunk in the
middle of the night
it’s the pool of light made by one lonely streetlight
it’s the bar on the corner where
people look hard and unforgiving
it’s the safe little house full of family that you
pass on your way
peeking in at the one window left ajar
letting the calm and peace inside escape
you watch it dissipate into the
night air you hold on to your aching
heart suddenly grown too large to handle
it’s the sound of your footsteps on the sidewalk
breaking the oily silence
it’s the memory of his skin pressed up against yours
long lazy mornings when all is
put aside it’s the shadow of a streetdog shirking
in dark corners watching warily as you
go by wondering why you’re there
why you’re disturbing his world
why you’re passing through his space
you will know
you will realize somehow that I’ve
tiptoed toward the door Tick Tock
you will wake up
you will realize something’s afoot
Oho! you will say What’s this?
I will grin sheepishly and say Nothing
that I was just going out for a
drink of water and hope you
don’t see my bag packed on the
floor behind me Tick Tock I will be afraid
to move afraid to breathe
you will look at me suspiciously
I will laugh at your skepticism
Who me? I will say and then
maybe you will fall back to sleep reassured
and I can make a run for it
Poster child of sanity
You are the closest thing I have to
someone who loves me, so I
cling to you. You are my only hope.
You are surprised by this, you’re
not sure what I’m doing.
You like the attention, but the
intensity of it worries you a bit.
When I get angry and withdraw it,
try to move on (as I know is
best for me), you are shocked,
bereft from the loss.
This actually says more about you than
it does me, and I am not
a poster child of sanity.
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Cher Bibler is the author of one book of poetry, California, California. She has worked as editor of Amanda Blue, a poetry magazine, and co-editor of a literary magazine, the Wastelands Review. She was a fiction reader for the Mid American Review and worked as poetry editor for the Heartlands Review. She was a book reviewer for Literary Zoo.
She was a founding member of the alternative band Tinfoil, as bass/rhythm guitarist, singer and songwriter. Over their career, they released 12 albums. One of their songs, People Don’t Know, will be featured in an indie film, Certainty, directed by Keith Mosher.
Her short story, Not Waving But Drowning, was a winner in the annual NOBS competition, and her current novel, I am never sure when, was a finalist in the 2012 Faulkner competition. Her poetry has appeared in such publications as This Side of Paradise, Blue Hour Magazine, Poetry Pacific, Thirteen Myna Birds and The Evergreen Review, as well as the first Blue Hour Anthology.
She resides in Merida, Mexico, is supporting herself playing music, and serves as the content editor of In Other Words: Merida. You can hear some music at http://www.reverbnation.com/cherbibler
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Artist: Jane Gilday
Lambertville Towpath, Blossoms
acrylic on panel