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Sunday, September 02, 2018


by Phyllis Wax

Side        to        side                     
he     bounces
a shiny pinball
bumper        to        bumper

We can’t take our eyes away

Around him they frantically
work the flippers                     
try to discreetly jiggle the table             
nudge      bump       nudge
but in the end he glances off
one surface        angles
onto another   I’m the best,
believe me   as he bounces from                 
a red bumper           the best
              as he hits a wall                                         
not in control, but neither is                           
anyone else

They keep trying                                       

hoping not to set off                         
a flashing TILT  TILT                                                   
with yet another insider                   
so sad

Phyllis Wax writes in Milwaukee on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. Among the anthologies and journals in which her poetry has appeared are: The Widows’ Handbook, Birdsong, Spillway, Peacock Journal, Surreal Poetics, Naugatuck River Review, TheNewVerse.News, Portside, Star 82 Review. A Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize nominee, she has read in coffee houses, bars, libraries and on the radio. Her work has been exhibited with art quilts and weavings in a variety of venues around the state of Wisconsin as part of four poet/fiber artist collaborations.