Mother Daughter Fight by Peter Crowley

Glass dives off table, marrying flesh Eyes widen, in shock and rage Then another glass, constructed in forgotten Chinese factory, is hurled from hand, from the same direction but toward the other end of the table. The two flying glasses’ trajectories made an X, each shattering after hitting wooden tabletop and splaying out shards which land on mosquito-flooded floor Afterwards, the daughter, temporally “home” from … Continue reading Mother Daughter Fight by Peter Crowley

Freedom’s Not Free by Peter Crowley

Independent Sunshine was stopped by the police Sunshine asks, “What’s the matter, you don’t like my freedom?” to a cop wearing a “freedom’s not free” hat The cop, timorously, albeit threateningly, waves an enormous American flag at Sunshine, as if scaring away foxes from the chicken coop When Sunshine remarked, “Thanks for reminding me what country we’re in!” it was promptly arrested for “violent” defamation … Continue reading Freedom’s Not Free by Peter Crowley

Crusade, or Historic Other by Peter Crowley

In the Acre night, young Palestinian men sat outside shopfronts smoking water pipes and drinking juice. As I walked past them on the streets near the Old City, they may have wondered what sort of crusader I was. Napoleon’s army had tried to mount these walls, where six centuries earlier his ancestors had been more successful, albeit, only temporarily. After walking through the Old City … Continue reading Crusade, or Historic Other by Peter Crowley

Lit Crit by Peter Crowley

Adjective, the writer’s sapphire though apostate to the editor, who conducts adjectival ethnic cleansing The air should be as it is. Not amorphous, pollen-replete, warming, hallucinogenic or stultified. The person shouldn’t be awe-inspiring, loquacious, demeaning, exploitative or a bore. They should simply fit into employment application checkboxes– gay or straight, black white or Hispanic. And they should probably have tattoos, use drugs or have interesting … Continue reading Lit Crit by Peter Crowley

Worker, Beg Not by Peter Crowley

Supplicated hands, extending the beggar waits forever From inside the glass office looking out, such is the natural state of things Make them wait, make them grovel, have them kiss your feet and one or two may be chosen to ascend from the paycheck-to-paycheck world to a place where one can buy a newer car, which doesn’t shake you to the core as it ambles … Continue reading Worker, Beg Not by Peter Crowley