The Boy
By Brandon Shane
Perhaps I cradled the forest a little too tight,
sympathized with the ants' whose kingdoms
have been destroyed for the sake of curiosity,
innocent snails, who slug along, plucked shells,
and maligned worms that clean our messes
without an expectation of payment.
I wished nuclear bombs were distant
as space faring pillars, and world wars,
were only heated debates,
that sometimes ended relationships.
I sunk into grass, as my father shattered
windows, and tossed glass bottles
of malt liquor into the yard.
I couldn't talk to him about cluster bombs,
let alone my love for other boys,
and sometimes he'd lean against a wall,
glare at me with such rage,
I’d settle in the woodland, hitch to a tree,
insectile peace, listening to birds sing
in a beautiful language they never had to learn.
Paternal
By Brandon Shane
My father was long dead, when I began
to think of his life, the alcoholism
that took every friend he'd ever made,
a generational farmhouse seized by banks,
how he crawled his last hours, alone,
after stealing every single penny
he'd earn after getting fired
for the last time, some decades gone.
I took some time drifting across the Mojave,
Sierras, visited Appalachia, where he was born,
his family were vile cruel, crooks, bigoted,
and I thought; he wasn't too bad,
considering these are their sunset years.
He'd gambled every single dime
in a final hurrah, on enough machinery
to be considered half man.
our fights had broken every single wall,
expensive ornaments that promised
a collector's dream, churned
to fine powder, a stained-glass mausoleum
eradicated by carefully placed charges,
and I was beaten with sticks, clubs, loose doors,
head between the crevice; a lumbering swing,
awoken in the bathroom, sometimes shattered,
he tells me it's time for school,
packed sandwiches in the lunch box,
and that I should try to become
something other than him.
Brandon Shane is a poet, born in Yokosuka Japan. You can see his work in the Berlin Literary Review, Acropolis Journal, Grim & Gilded, Sophon Lit, Marbled Sigh, RIC Journal, Heimat Review, Ink in Thirds, Discretionary Love, among many others. He would later graduate from Cal State Long Beach.
Artwork Source: “The Boy,” Anita Eralie Schley
Anita Eralie Schley graduated from the University of Utah in 1996 with BFA in Studio Art. In addition to having her work in a multitude of galleries and publications, she has also taught art through continuing education classes, an Alternative high school drawing class in Box Elder County, the college setting as an alternative photography processes substitute at Salt Lake Community College and was the photography program director for CLASS Art School. Anita is both a painter and a photographer and enjoys exploring different mediums in her artwork. She has received multiple awards throughout her career including most recently: Honorable Mention 2023 for the Workshop13 exhibit RED, Award of Merit 2022 Utah Women Artists Exhibit, Best of Show 2020 Box Elder Museum Photography group exhibit. She lives in Springville, Utah with her husband. She has four adult children and recently became a grandmother for the first time.
The Turning Leaf Journal 