from Moledro: A Suite for Lost Literary Magazines
Straightforward, the view from here,
to spirit’s tincture, a mixitini matrix,
the mad hatter’s melusine. At the corner club,
diverse voices grift uncut thick jam word gumbo –
intellectual refuge, for the sonorous;
for weekenders, the hellroaring review;
a soft cartel lost in thought,
untied shoelaces of the mind –
dialogual human noise,
a joyful acapella zoo.