SANIBEL NOTES (7)

A crow
Aglow in fog,
Pecks
A stiff dead fish.
The fish, hooked
For fun,
Tossed
On sand
To cross the broken strap
Of a tossed away sandal.

SANIBEL NOTES (8)

Small silver sharks,
Side speared,
Rots
On shore sand.
Eyes, silverish green;
Fins:
Pale pinks,
Pale blues,
Pale greens-
Rainbow colors
Proclaiming
No covenant.

SANIBEL NOTES (9)

Ghost crab seeks
To return
To his ancient, ancestral home,
But
Pushed back by the waters' force.
Rainbow-hued foam
Flows
Over his white body.

SANIBEL NOTES (10)

Nearby, a driftwood fire,
Red glints on beer cans
I am happy the waves are loud.
I am happy I cannot hear what is being said.

SANIBEL NOTES (11)

Mast,
A thin black line quivers
On a pink-purple evening sky.
No one knows that sitting on the boat's deck
Is a sun-burned man in tennis shorts,
Dark glasses above his eyes
His is aggressively asserting his opinions
On what should be done
About the Near East, Asia, Africa, and Cuba
To a sea gull.
He is an insurance salesman.

Duane Locke, Doctor of Philosophy in English Renaissance literature, Professor Emeritus of the Humanities, was Poet in Residence at the University of Tampa for over 20 years. Has had over 2,000 of his own poems published in over 500 print magazines such as American Poetry Review, Nation, Literary Quarterly, Black Moon, and Bitter Oleander. Is author of 14 print books of poems, the latest is WATCHING WISTERIA ( to order write Vida Publishing, P.O. Box 12665, Lake, Park, FL. 33405-0665, or Amazon or Barnes and Noble). Since September 1999, he became a cyber poet and started submitting on-line, and since September 1999 he has added to his over 2,000 print acceptances with 1,394 acceptances by e zines. He is also a painter. Now has exhibitions at Thomas Center Galleries (Gainesville, FL) and Tyson Trading Company (Micanopy, FL) Recently a one-man show at Pyramid Galleries (Tampa, FL) Also, a photographer, has had 116 of his photos selected for appearance on e zines. He photographs trash in alleys. Moves in close to find beauty in what people have thrown away. He now lives alone in a two-story decaying house in the sunny Tampa slums. He lives isolated and estranged as an alien, not understanding the customs, the costumes, the language (some form of postmodern English) of his neighbors. The egregious ugliness Of his neighborhood has recently been mitigated by the esthetic efforts of the police force who put bright orange and yellow posters on the posts to advertise the location is a shopping mall for drugs. His alley is the dumping ground for stolen cars. One advantage Of living in this neighborhood, if your car is stolen, you can step out in the back and pick it up. Also, the burglars are afraid to come in on account of the muggers. His recreational activities are drinking wine, listening to old operas, and reading postmodern philosophy.

Email: Duane Locke

Return to Table of Contents