Issue 14 • 2011





by J. Michael Wahlgren





I rust like a heart

at         the end of the world;


You tell me to speed up the pace

endorse, too, smalls


If you want it, it’s a sonnet,

a sonnet if you wane &


line up like motorcycles,

The hairy ones gray &


With little attention.

Not prude.  Hills, deliver us


To the top where drive-ins

Wear virtue and movies


Where pain rips you

A tide sing you a verse.









J. Michael Wahlgren is working on a new collection of poems entitled, Duds & Other Works.  He publishes for Gold Wake Press.