The Other Direction (by Steve Brightman)

Steve Brightman [photo by T.M. Göttl]

The Other Direction 

There’s no way
to watch every side;
you trust yourself to hear it
before you see it.

There’s no comfort
when every direction
is the other direction.
There’s no sleeping easy.

There’s no reflection,
no glint of sun in bed of blue,
no warning lights.

There is rumble,
you think.
You cannot tell.
Your hands shake.
There is interruption,
there is doppler.
There is weather girl
saying “now.”



* * * * *

Steve Brightman lives in Kent, Ohio. He firmly believes in two seasons: winter and baseball. 

He is the author of countless chapbooks including, most recently, 13 Ways of Looking at Lou Reed (2013, Crisis Chronicles Press);  In Brilliant Explosions Alone (2013, NightBallet Press); Like Michelangelo Sorta Said (2013, The Poet’s Haven); Absent The (2013, Writing Knights Press); The Logic of Meteors (2011, Writing Knights); and Sometimes, Illinois (2011, NightBallet).

Made Home The Hedges (by Steve Brightman)

Steve Brightman [photo by T.M. Göttl]

Made Home The Hedges

I’d been meaning
to pick up seed for
the tangle of cardinals
that have made home the hedges
that line the small driveway.
I’d made note of
their religious flutter,
their reckless dives
between what remains of
shrubbery and cold
chain link diamonds,
their tiny persistence
through early snows.
There are small feeders
that I could mount
on one of the end posts
as penance.



* * * * *

Steve Brightman lives in Kent, Ohio. He firmly believes in two seasons: winter and baseball. 

He is the author of countless chapbooks including, most recently, 13 Ways of Looking at Lou Reed (2013, Crisis Chronicles Press);  In Brilliant Explosions Alone (2013, NightBallet Press); Like Michelangelo Sorta Said (2013, The Poet’s Haven); Absent The (2013, Writing Knights Press); The Logic of Meteors (2011, Writing Knights); and Sometimes, Illinois (2011, NightBallet).

Signal Overrides Message (by Steve Brightman)

Steve Brightman [photo by T.M. Göttl]

Signal Overrides Message

20th century
sits here,
buried,
staggered across
corrugated canvas
in eighth-inch
increments.
Purity is
fiction.
Purity is
anomaly,
now, you say.
Purity is
lost to
interference.
Signal
overrides message,
now, you say.
Purity is
lost forever,
buried under grey
in eighth-inch
increments.



* * * * *

Steve Brightman lives in Kent, Ohio. He firmly believes in two seasons: winter and baseball. 

He is the author of countless chapbooks including, most recently, 13 Ways of Looking at Lou Reed (2013, Crisis Chronicles Press);  In Brilliant Explosions Alone (2013, NightBallet Press); Like Michelangelo Sorta Said (2013, The Poet’s Haven); Absent The (2013, Writing Knights Press); The Logic of Meteors (2011, Writing Knights); and Sometimes, Illinois (2011, NightBallet).

He will be one of 60 featured poets during Snoetry 4: A Kulchured Winter Wordfest on 16 March 2014 at Guide to Kulchur, 1386 W. 65th Street in Cleveland, Ohio.

Vending Machine Profiteers (by Steve Brightman)

Steve Brightman [photo by T.M. Göttl]

Vending Machine Profiteers

Loud are the
vending machine
profiteers.
One quarter
one quarter
one quarter
clank clank clank
into the cracks
in the armor,
into the empty,
into the Lou Reed
skyline above a city
he never saw.
Loud are the boys
and girls yelling in their
nylon ripcord vocals.
Loud are the raw
and childish voices
of the new silence.

“Vending Machine Profiteers” (c) 2013 by Steve Brightman, from his chapbook 13 Ways of Looking at Lou Reed (published by Crisis Chronicles Press).

Steve Brightman lives in Kent, Ohio.  He is also the author of In Brilliant Explosions Alone (2013, NightBallet Press); Like Michelangelo Sorta Said (2013, The Poet’s Haven); Absent The (2013, Writing Knights Press); The Logic of Meteors (2011, Writing Knights);  Sometimes, Illinois (2011, NightBallet); and Forlorn Teeth (2010, Blasted Press).

He will be one of 60 featured poets during Snoetry 4: A Kulchured Winter Wordfest on 16 March 2014 at Guide to Kulchur, 1386 W. 65th Street in Cleveland, Ohio.