Like Raindrops

I am not a Buddhist (neither was he)I am a followerof the neonlight of liberation Free of being rightI strive to seehow my poetry can hold many truths, all of themsentenced todeath George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 […]

The Earth Is An Ordinary Friend

the oughtness of an ant&the secret codes of Hawthorn treesThe way Socrates said yes to the hemlockshe was an ordinary friend. That feelingof being stuckin paradise George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, […]

Is This How I Wanted it to Go?

A forest away from the pulsationsof thinking. A forest still as raindrops falling off red pine needles.My ancestors. In this forest.I am not alive, in this forest.I know as a ghost knows,a lovely, fragile, shale hunger returning broken from my handshung between the womb andwilderness,as it is born, a great disk-shapedsystem of gas, an accident of the cosmos. George Cassidy Payne is […]

A Yellow Cardinal

Genetics could be the sole factor the same way roots of hemlocksthirst for affection like toddlers, some say it is an obscure type ofhermaphroditism, or some other theoryperhaps the reason pumice smellsthe way it does, or the words surface to life from the lips of the newly awakenedshining like a natural sermon, burning phosphorous and strikingthe earth, beneath the polar auroras yes, a yellow cardinal isno rarer than the redno less […]

No Longer Lost

Artwork by catzz Becoming many-celled,bright red to orange,existing by thoughts alone,barely living from thesun, mountainous, even coniferous,pink-tinged, with unlaced shoes, uncombed hair, and handmade signs, broke loose for the first time, making deathhowl, between a porno shop and a truck stopdiner, they said Buffalo was 20 minutesaway and then it happened. Too young to age,too old to […]

My Mood Feels

like the third glassof a New Belgium juicyhaze IPA. Ancient wisdomon a napkin. Lighting bowlsand random deposit slips onthe top of a Panasonic stereo,one that only plays FM radio and cassette tapes. Like beingtogether with my family, but not requesting the reception that has to follow, orlike a sunflower picked off atthe root, thrown into a bouquetwith grandmother’s […]

Why Poetry is Well Suited for Space Work

Why did I think she had eyes thecolor of feces and sweat dipping tainted hairs white as burning phosphorous? What is wrongwith me? Why could I not justsee brown and white?  It’s as if my mind has to reenter the atmosphere before it can join otherhumans again. Not unlike astronauts,poets speak words with Neoprene-coated nylon.Their syllables irrigating the sandy […]