Graveler
All shadows in the world are screams and like stones plopped in water, they form consecutive rings, each one becoming wider than the next until… Read More »Graveler
Lenore's collections include "Tap Dancing on the Silverado Trail" (2011) from Finishing Line Press, “Sh’ma Yis’rael” (2007) from Pudding House Publications, and "Cutting Down the Last Tree on Easter Island" (West End Press, 2012). Her writing has won recognition from Poets&Writers (finalist in California Voices contest) and as a finalist for Pablo Neruda Prize, Nimrod International Journal. The Society for Technical Communication has recognized her work regarding Technical Literacy in the schools. All material is copyrighted on this site and cannot be used without the author's permission.
All shadows in the world are screams and like stones plopped in water, they form consecutive rings, each one becoming wider than the next until… Read More »Graveler
I got dealt the right hand, but didn’t know what was left of me. Stepping on broken glass, a breeze cried out and hopped over… Read More »Golem Doesn’t Get Jack
My heart was in the right place, grown children in the bloodlines of my inner space, a practicum for laboring over my cheese and cracker… Read More »The Right Hand
Between earth and sky and the bearded light of filtering stars, I walked away homeless, death trailed close behind like a poor relative, but tonight, something… Read More »Golem Speaks Truth to Power
It wasn’t a job for one man let alone a clay man of cheese and crackers. At night after the lights on the block went… Read More »Clay Man of Cheese and Crackers
I wanted to control him, but in a good way, like a Mickey Mousenik from the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, my honey-do mopping up mess with a wooden… Read More »Power Wash
Another golem came around. Oh, yes. There’s more than one. Talked to students, retirees, regular people. And what happened? Mein kinder cuckoo in the head tarred him with names: socialist,… Read More »Sweeter
The Ghost Ship sailed into the Oakland harbor smelling of burning flesh. No one was left. That same day people marveled how hundreds of yellow marigolds, all sizes,… Read More »The Ghost Ship
Still unsettled from my last call, when Christian babies had been dug from graves and stashed inside Jewish kitchens to prove guilt, now up against energy efficient drones all… Read More »The Golem on Feeling Unsettled
Twisted Bay laurel trunks lean down the hillside branches covered in moss scarves quail make a quick exit like a troupe of dancers racing across… Read More »Golem Takes a Hike on Black Friday