Summer Through Gritted Teeth

Dear reader, 

 

     We dream that summer will save us. Promise of vacation or escape into the waters that lie about their warmth. Deadlines tremble on our shoulders despite how much sun rises and falls each day. The poems here are delicate but unyielding. Flowers and florists make do. We have trimmed leaves, removed thorns (not without harm), and arranged bouquets.

      Sometimes metaphor is easier than plain speech. Summers are becoming cruel to humanity. Fires and floods chase us down. A dizzying frolic through the garden might be the only way to cope. Here lies beauty and brutality. Relaxation and agony. We cannot vacate.

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Kindly,

 

Alex Vigue

Founding Editor