Tag Archives: Andrew Shields

Not Six Plus Six Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird

            A lipogram on stanzas by a bard who had a job in Hartford I Among six plus four and six plus four snowy mountains, only a thing was moving: a black bird’s optic organ. II I was of a mind … Continue reading

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Save The Tigers

Once more Sunday, shops closed. One sunny day, and the tables are drinking outside the cafés. Ice creams browse past the windows. The balloons, holding their children’s hands, have been here before, but for the children, everything is new, save … Continue reading

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Emergencies

A siren in the morning. I flip French toast and walk to the window, too late to rubberneck. No sun behind the steady rain. A siren at noon. I chop an onion to “Me and Bobby McGee” and catch the … Continue reading

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Getting Yahweh’s Goat

            for Andrew DeBoo “My goat is gone,” said God.                                                    “Well, that’s too bad,” said Abel.                   “Can you find it, please?” God asked. Said Abel, “I don’t want to be a cad, but you know that I can’t leave my task … Continue reading

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Driftwood

The river turns; the wood piles up,             a bonfire waiting to start. So many trunks and twigs and branches,             and not a single match. The water will not carry them             to any mountaintop. They will not be a burning signal … Continue reading

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Choir Boy

When it was the choir boy’s turn to sing, he had something to say first, in a language that he’d learned, and everybody heard. He’d forgotten what he was called. Was his name Gordon? Was his name Walt? Sweating by … Continue reading

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Almond

The fenceposts drink the water from both sides. One is flowering. The sunbirds sip at pistils and stamens; ravens wait for the almonds. It burns in the sudden flames of suicides. Andrew Shields lives in Basel, Switzerland. His book Thomas … Continue reading

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Clocks

The tinkling bell of the neighbor’s clock strikes behind the wall: eleven. Only at night can it be heard. Even the ticking of our own clocks fades by day in the noise of children and adults, calling from room to … Continue reading

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Some Settling Of Contents May Have Occurred During Shipping And Handling

My tricycle carried me into the street; the Cadillac stopped inches away. Years passed, and our station wagon headed home from the dump, the back seat down, with me squatting behind the driver’s seat. A speeding Pinto overlooked a light … Continue reading

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Advice To A Serf

The hens keep laying when you fast in search of spiritual purity. Boil the eggs before they go bad and dye them red to tell them from the others. You’ll never eat them all, so set aside a dozen for … Continue reading

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