ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  April 2017
volume 14 number 1
-table of contents-
 
  home  
 
  contributing poets
  Shawn Aveningo
  Stefanie Bennett
  Paulo Brito
  Holly Day
  Marvin Louis Dorsey
  Neil Ellman
  Timothy Gager
  Jerry Garcia
  David Herrle
  Julia Knobloch
  Marie C Lecrivain
  Emma Lee
  Ron Lucas
  Karen J McDonnell
  Alison Ross
  Walter Ruhlmann
  Rishan Singh
  Bobbi SInha-Morey
  Zev Torres
  RK Wallace
 
  home
  poets
  poems
  archive
  submissions
  mailing list
  store
  links
  contact
   
RK Wallace
April 2017
   

 

bio


art by jared barbick

    RK Wallace is a writer from Scotland who spent many years in Southern California before returning to his native homeland. He runs a poetry/spoken word event in the city of Glasgow which sees some of the best poets Scotland has to offer passing through. He has an MA in Creative Writing, and is working towards a collection of poetry about his time in Southern California. RK Wallace's poetry has been published by The New York Quarterly, Glasgow Review of Books, Qumunicate magazine, Literature in Los Angeles (LILA) and more...

   

 

A Shooting (Seal Beach Pier - 2011)

She called me when it hit the news, days after
we signed for the divorce.
The news rang through my inner ear,
rattled the drum the same way
the volume of nearby gunfire does,

like the whine
from the old dial
up connection
we once used,
(pre-marriage) living five thousand miles apart,
to communicate,

before I finally decided, just to be
able to be with her,
to fly through the sky
for twelve hours - at three quarters the speed

of sound.
Then...
silence...

I thought about those
relatives
of the victims,

of their grief,
of their pain
of their regret,
of not being able to

speak
one
last
word

of solace,
of respect,
of peace,
of love.

I thought about the memories
they would have to grasp onto,
just to ease the sheer agony of
letting go.
Like the photos

I held of us,
grievously in my own hands,
all of them
(her and me) separated by
a rip down the middle
(from her tremored rage)
like the scarred features
of the San Andreas fault line

that always threatens the separation between
California and the rest of the family
of states.

I was preparing to load myself
back into that winged barrel of steel,
knowing full well I could never reverse
death or divorce,

knowing with a whole
continent
dividing us,

I would soon become
nothing
but a fading ghost
in her memory.

copyright 2017 RK Wallace