*

Peter F. Crowley is a prolific writer from the Boston area whose work spans short fiction, op-eds, poetry, and academic essays. His writing has appeared in publications such as Pif Magazine, New Verse News, Counterpunch, Common Dreams, The Galway Review, Digging Through the Fat, and The Opiate. He was a finalist in both the short story and poetry categories of Adelaide’s Award Anthologies. He is the author of two poetry collections, Those Who Hold Up the Earth and Empire’s End, as well as a short fiction collection, That Night and Other Stories.

A poem I will write

One day I will write a poem
that will be profoundly noble,
and widely praised

I will become famous,
adored by the morally sound
and astute, clever people

It will be a fine life with large sums of money,
a houseboat in the Bahamas
and a throne ‘neath coconut trees

The piece will be read for centuries,
nay millennia, be studied in schools,
my biography analyzed

All thanks to this poem
that I will one day
write

Post-Democratic US

The United States is a post-democratic society
ruled by corruption and fiat
The president throws his dogs on protesters
and has the street lined with the National Guard, ICE
and active-duty military, claiming that perfectly calm
cities are in revolt – to crush any and all dissent
A wannabe dictator!

The United States is a post-democratic society
After firing a federal prosecutor
who would not prosecute the innocent Letitia James,
the wannabe directed the judiciary to indict –
and indict they did.
And before doing so, throwing hand-picked
prosecutor Erik Siebert out of his job, just because
he would not bend that much

The United States is a post-democratic society
Siccing ICE on apartment buildings, forcing
everybody out of their homes, citizens and non,
children, the elderly, the handicapped –
all to sever people from their lives,
sometimes newer – maybe arrived from
Taiwan over the past few years, or perhaps they
came from Mexico 23 years ago legally
and are still legal, but yet
they are hunted down
All to sever the optically different
from the treasured tribe

The United States is a post-democratic society:
Invading cities, torturing immigrant detainees,
declaring a war on the opposition
and designating them as terrorists.
But it’s not hard to be an enemy
of the state that you’re creating through
dismantling republicanism, the constitution,
rule of law, freedom of speech.

The Fall, Before Dawn

I.

With eyes stuffed inside the sockets,
she moved forward holding a candle, a knife.
What was dreamt had not come to pass.

On the elemental street before dawn,
‘neath the quietude of a waning moon,
scurrying leaves scraped
the pavement.

II.

She went onward as a sorcerer, a skeleton.
The life that had burgeoned in spring
now unwound.

Then, lo – from the distance emerged a vision, a blur!
A headless horseman galloping forward,
sword out, leaning over and directing his weapon
at her.

She kept walking. When he came within
striking distance, she held the candle before
her face.

The light’s blinding effect made the
horse to rise to its hind legs, casting the man off,
and disappeared into the night.

III.

Without horse, the headless man crawled towards her.
“Wait, my love!” he bellowed.

The woman strode away,
becoming a silhouette against the waning moon.
A crisp wind caused
slow parades of ancient, dried up,
yellow-brown leaves to pass
at her feet.

— Peter F. Crowley

_______________________________________
To have your work considered for the Lyrical send it to:
Doug Holder, 25 School St.; Somerville, MA 02143
dougholder@post.harvard.edu