From Thunder Sandwich Issue 25

Thunder Sandwich, a journal edited by Jim Chandler, has been inactive/closed for a while now. Ron Androla recently was digging through the archives and posted a couple of his poems from an old issue on Pressure Point Press Board. That prompted me to look up the two I had in the journal shortly before it closed. We're trying to rouse Jim to bring out another issue. He's on that board too and is thinking:-)


See these online in the archived Thunder Sandwich

Guarding The Edge


Outside my bedroom window,
dealers meet their daily quota
pumping the walking dead.
Hookers bargain for memories
in the back of run-down Chevrolets.

A man screams Armageddon
Nobody cares what he says.

The Buddhist sits on my doorstep.
Mud stains coat his feet.
He says we're all connected;
muggers hiding in alleys,
old ladies prone on the street.

I laugh at the distant rumblings,
flip on my wide screen TV,
ignore cracks already cobwebbing
my carefully guarded space.


Bedding the Butterfly


I watch you watch her wriggle
center stage, bait for the guy
with orange hair and bad voice
netting the throbbing crowd.

The guitar worships her,
kisses her sweet ass,
pubescent hips gyrating
in the doo-whap thick of the night.

I know you will grope me later,
imagining her instead,
her halter top tossed free
and floating-

your red sequined butterfly
of receding youth,
flutterdying
on our cold hardwood floor.


Pris Campbell
in Thunder Sandwich