Gayle J. Greenlea

FRagile

How we suffer
from small wounds

inflicted unconsciously,
intentional tramplings
in the fields. We wield
power carelessly

or not at all, watch silently
as another brother
goes down; a sister falls
in the moonlight…

Revolution

Hunger is a maddening mistress,

fatal attraction, grave tease, more

palatable than the gnawing loneliness

of isolation. Who would believe

a rival, small, invisible…

Reality fascist

Who could know you hid avenging wings beneath
your coat? That your gloating brimstone utterances
were match-strike that would set the world
alight? Now, in these Days of the Dead…

Gayle J. Greenlea

Devolution

Galileo would commiserate with virologists
over rejection of reason, remonstrate with
politicians for overwriting fact with fiction.
Death rides a pale horse, blotting out…

Anatomy of the Anthropause

There are no dolphins in the canals of Venice,

though it was a romantic myth in the blight

of pandemic. Swans are a more common sight

as humans isolate indoors. Goats…

Scenes fRom a lockdown

I used to be like Greta Garbo, craving
time to be alone, wishing away sirens,

chaos and crowds. Now the quiet
is alarming…

Gayle J. Greenlea

The Lorikeet

Sometimes she is a disabled girl who dreams

of flying. Rainbow Spirit changes her into a dazzling bird…

Logos

What word, what fire

from collision? What hope

shrouded in the vision

of a particle

isolated? 

Origin

In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel
went to Shrewsbury, a town in England
on the River Severn, and appeared
to the harpsichordist Susannah…

Gayle J. Greenlea

Grey

Stealthily you materialize; night
incandescent with your yellow moon eyes.
“Don’t tell,” you pant, paw on my chest,
breath moist and hot against my ear.

My body is bone cold.

I’ve never told…

The Betrayal

Red streaks marred her makeup, his handprint
throbbed beneath her skin. What would the guests think?
She couldn’t possibly go back downstairs, play
hostess, calmly set out olives for martinis,
wondering what they’d heard; voices flaring
in upstairs rooms…

After Minnie Left

Minnie Lee slung her Martin D28 into the old Volkswagen,

turquoise with yellow interior, sliced with white stripes

like lemon for shrimp cocktail. Tossed her pink duffle

with the broken zipper on top, mouth open, 

bulimic passenger spilling half its contents onto the floor…