A pressure cooker percolating
20,000 years, maybe more.
A caldera itching to blow
the lid off a new age,
to smother yet another 
Iowa cornfield in ash
three inches deep, 
to at long last cast
California into the sea

There’s (more…)

The fist of God smashes
down on the ‘nine,
grinds out the butt-end of his anger
sends everyone scattering,
searching pockets, the beneath chair cushions,
dashboard ashtrays and the saucer
that sits a top the chest of drawers

Those (more…)

By Jason Vaughn and W.E. Leathem

I. Midpoint 

After three years away from Kansas, I am sitting in my old merciful green chair in the living room of a temporary “home” in a sleepy neighborhood in Basehor, an orange (more…)