mix it up, it turns gray, this a child’s
lesson in color. “Mud” is what it is
called and you try not to make it.
Turn life loose on itself and it runs
into mud flowing in all directions
blotting out the colors of unique
distinct and beautiful of worlds.
A flurry of anything distracts stuff
turning air to white or black, a tactic
until it becomes inseparable and one
component loses its identity forever.
Today a worm, tomorrow a new plant
snakes in forbidden places and fungus
everything circling the single globe
the one canvas upon which we write.
And, tonight, I am making soup
mixing flavors, trying not to make mud.
Brad lives and writes in the Great Northwest.
He fills his home with art, music, photography,
plants, rocks, bones, books and love. He has
published poetry in Cream City Review, Alchemy,
Fireweed, Mercury, Uphook Press, Front Range
Review, theNewerYork, Generations Literary Journal,
Flowers & Vortexes, Dead Flowers, Dark Matter
Journal, Gambling the Aisle, The Whirlwind
Review, Edge, Diversion Press, Unshod Quills,
Meat for Tea, Great Weather for Media, The
Meadow, Shuf Poetry, Post Poetry Magazine,
Foliate Oak Literary Journal, Temenos, Hoot
& Hare, The Ilanot Review, Third Wednesday,
And/Or, Sugar Mule, Embodied Effigies, River
& South Review, Off the Coast, Rockhurst Review,
Gravel Literary Review, Livid Squid Literary
Journal, 100 Word Story, The Muse – An International
Journal of Poetry, South 85, Emerge Literary
Journal, Stonecoast Review, Brickplight, Ray’s
Road Review, New Plains Review, The Round Up,
Blast Furnace, Squalorly, Round Up Magazine,
BASED, Cactus Heart Journal, Ikleftiko, Red Savina
Review, Fukushima, Prick of the Spindle, Penduline
Press, Eunoia Review, and other quality publications.
Nominee: 2013 Pushcart Prize for poem, “Where We
May Be Found.”