A Parallel Uni-Verse
Red rain falls between
two anxious rooms,
the rain inside you
rings in the gutters of your veins.

Everything is fishing
for the deluge
from a shipwreck
of phosphorescences.

The world has gone
far away
without a sound
to where bronze
tambourines of northern
lights tremble.


Carolyn Gelland lives in Wilton, Maine. Her most recent collection of poetry is Four-Alarm House.
Far Away
By Carolyn Gelland
drunk on spices
crying for sunset,
swings the watch-chain
of its gold tail
across the sky,
slides manias
into my brain
while tom-toms
stutter
through the covered
jungle of my heart,
alarming high
dreamland
to its regime
of accidents.

High Noon
By Carolyn Gelland
Watching apartment buildings
transport themselves like wounded quail

or cardboard cartons
in the sheets of wind and rain

should be frightening
or at least fascinating.

Something is running,
footless, detached, imponderable,

quiet and far off but everywhere
in the crushed calm.


Carolyn Gelland lives in Wilton, Maine. Her new chapbook is Dream-Shuttle.
Willy Willy
By Carolyn Gelland
Looking At Him
By Carolyn Gelland
She saw her own
image in his eyes

herself
looking at him

not simply herself
but herself in him

his
Eldorado

dazzled out
by her star.


Carolyn Gelland lives in Wilton, Maine. Her most recent book is Dream-Shuttle.
The moon opens
her white umbrella,

lunar incense
rises.

Taishan in Pisa,
Pound’s holy mountain,

hives in the sabbath
outside this world,

fables the eternal
Garden,

a spreading
perfume.


Carolyn Gelland lives in Wilton, Maine. Her recent chapbook is Dream-Shuttle.
Taishan in Pisa
By Carolyn Gelland