UNFLINCHING IDIOMS, WRITTEN IN JET BLACK INK
OK. I admit the first thing I thought of was some freeway wearing a
Rose Bowl of flowers. I imagined the land of 1000 dances partying
in the aisle of communion or bet your gun is bigger than mine. I
conjured up sugar plum fairies of black-eyed peas buried
in a snow storm. Batteries lined up like dominoes.
A yellow submarine hiding between two slices
of bread. I pictured moss growing in the
petrified forest of 100% natural hair.
But Edith Piaf was never part of
my fantasy. Neither was this
picture of a fire hydrant
yawning or Booker T.
lasting all the month
of June. That said, do I
get a second chance? Can
I roll the dice of chicken soup
served in an empty parking garage?
If you let me I promise a rodeo in your
woodblock of light rail increasingly impatient,
and soprano notes of harmony on holiday hill, leaving
the audience begging for the aria to be sung, again and again.
After almost a decade of working as a freelance photographer in Europe,
Maurice Oliver returned to America in 1990. Then, in 1995, he made a
life-long dream reality by traveling around the world for eight months. But
instead of taking pictures, he recorded the experience in a journal which
eventually became poems. And so began his desire to be a poet. His
poetry has appeared in numerous national and international publications
and literary websites including Potomac Journal, Pebble Lake Review,
Frigg Magazine, Dandelion Magazine, (Canada), Stride Magazine (UK),
Cha Asian Literary Journal, (Hong Kong), Kritya (India), Blueprint Review,
(Germany) and Arabesques Review (Algeria). His forth chapbook was One
Remedy Is Travel (Origami Condom, 2007). He edits the literary ezine
Eye Socket Journal. He lives in Portland, OR, where he works as a private tutor.