Submission Guidelines: Send unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at] No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.

Tuesday, August 23, 2022


by Alejandro Escudé

A lizard, small, on my walk along 
the largest airport in the country,
dead, curled, fetus-like, so swift
they are as they shoot back toward
the ivy mounds. At times I imagine
how many trash bins would the 
lizards fill if they were all collected
from the overgrowth—so I take
with my iPhone a photo of him,
Cretaceous little being, extinct, 
and think about the latest warning
issued to all Apple users, a hack
where they could take control,
absolute control, the newscaster
asserts, of your phone. I yearn
for a return to those lizard days
when I couldn’t carry around
a sea of digital pirates, both legal
and illegal, a neon mind-maze,
yet enough data to assume society’s 
panoptic perch. I choose to keep 
from running another space race
with my phone, contemplate
the deadness of a dead lizard
on the sidewalk as monolithic 
shadows of planes, like the foot-
prints of a dinosaur accelerated 
in time, mesh onward to the west.

Alejandro Escudé published his first full-length collection of poems My Earthbound Eye in September 2013. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing from UC Davis and teaches high school English. Originally from Argentina, Alejandro lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two children.