“First Glance” +2 by Steve Baba

Categories: ISSUE 03: Edgar

First Glance
had enough?

i have


you the mold on my bread

you the grease on my pan


blisters on the hand

fingers still red from holding

the hot coffee cup


smell the bacon

devour the eggs


did you destroy the french fries

by adding ketchup?


did you realize that the

strawberries were not

meant for you?


the early morning light

filters through the window

money flies on the wind


take a crap

take a quarter and

put it in the piggy bank


why is it that mission street is

crowded with smokers?


why is it that she talks to herself

when the wind stops blowing?

O Typekey Divider

Coffee Visions
a warehouse full of dreams

the diamond tears still in the ducts


wipe the anger from your face

add the water

add the sugar


a baseball hat on the ground

sunglasses worn

an itchy eye


why does the coffee smell so good?

the blueberry muffin

stuffed into the mouth




blinking of the eyes


she brings the ham sandwich

to her spouse

he thanks her and touches

his hand to hers


the books remain closed

the bathroom door shuts quietly

a dove flies into the blue


she is leaving for portland

the angry pimple still angry

on her pretty face


red red red

the smog agitates the sky

where are the police

when you need them?


the words came out

too harshly

don’t come back

you won’t be in my will


she asks me if i want

to see her bedroom


he asks for a toy

that is too expensive

for me to buy

O Typekey Divider

Always Interesting

8:30 pm

and the dog barks

at the ghosts


tripping on the carpet

the heart flops

the memories stress


a cruise missile

is being tested

for aids


a hole in the ground

has worms in it

they cause one to pause

and try to understand

the complexities of viruses


a mop

a bucket of grey water

the clean smell of bleach

hits your nose


his red face

makes the children cringe


his red face

makes the sisters

give him a bible


its ok

just don’t forget

that the woman with

the terrific butt

is a mother


a gasp

a cry

a shout


when the leaves fall

off of the birch tree

you will know that fall is here

you will know that it will be snowing soon

Poems by Steve Baba
Background photo by Doriana Maria
Foreground photo by Clay Brandt
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