Do you have ice cream? she inquired of the waitress at the Black Bear Diner, and if so maybe blueberry? “Yes, we have blueberry. I’ll be back with a big scoop and two spoons as well so that you both can share it.” I asked her if she’d seen the video recently gone viral of an ISIS suicide bomber whose car hit a land mine and was shot fifty feet in the air at which … [Read more...]
Indian Review | Author | Thomas Piekarski is a former editor of the California State Poetry Quarterly. His poetry and interviews have appeared in Nimrod, Portland Review, Kestrel, Cream City Review, Poetry Salzburg, Boston Poetry Magazine, Gertrude, The Bacon Review, and many others. He has published a travel guide, Best Choices In Northern California, and Time Lines, a book of poems. He lives in Marina, California. Read his poems on Indian Review.
I held my hand out, and in it a cue ball turned, whirled for the word of a world gone bananas. The cue ball spun like a quasar, and sang to me, marrying there the light and shadowy distance. I shook my head and gasped, for I was alone, intrepid serf without a home. Homeless, yes, but steadfast, not seeing any reason to regret there was no alternative to this mechanized … [Read more...]
Had only the storied shores of exotic Tasmania inched a bit closer the showers that sheeted downtown Monterey streets would not have caused such untimely gloom among the motley multitude of sidewalk quilt merchants who toughed out rugged April storm strafe ultimately compelled to pack up and head home disappointed after an unfortunately profitless … [Read more...]
Rollicking and rocking, cavorting reportedly in open air-- rafters shattered, raucous debauchery posits a positive spin upon whispering antonyms. Dripping destiny from every incessant gaping pore, that pesky earwig pop goes the weasels, is thus abolished by salivation of libations poured from mammoth vats of glory’s lore. And then amidst wily gyrations of … [Read more...]
A balding bloke hosing off his somewhat beat-up fishing boat. Monterey Plein Air Society painters out en masse, strung along an entire half mile of prim shoreline, easels aimed at shallow bay and wharf from every conceivable angle… He meets up with her exactly on schedule. She seems pretty enough, although distractingly smug, under the illusion that her strict … [Read more...]