Flying Island

George Floyd Unmantled now, and broken, I           lie naked here, Awaiting no more enmity           or spite, no fear Of prejudice that would betray           this moment. Show My life as something to be weighed           by those who know What difference is, what justice seeks,           what must be done. Show me to those who now will speak,           whose time has come. Jared Carter lives in Indiana.

Rain    by Jared Carter The tractor-trailer’s eighteenth wheel,           in cornering The broken exit curb, congeals           and makes a thing Of mud out of the brindled cur           that stood beside Him all this time. The moment blurs.           He throws the sign-- Will Work for Food --into the ditch           that runs nearby, And reaches through the rain to bitch           against the sky. Jared Carter 's most recent book of poems, The Land Itself , is from Monongahela Books in West Virginia.  He lives in Indiana.

Jaynie by Jared Carter Under the bridge, not far away, lived Jaynie Dean, Who had no other place to stay except between Two railings stuffed with random rags and cardboard. Sacks, Containing clothes, and plastic bags filled up the cracks. Content to have a place to call her own, she froze One night. A trash truck came to haul away the clothes. Jared Carter ’s most recent book is The Land Itself , from Monongahela Books in West Virginia. He lives in Indianapolis.

Today (July 2) would have been the 86th birthday anniversary of Richard Pflum, a longtime fixture in the Indianapolis poetry community. He died on March 15. Several friends and colleagues honored him by submitting poems. Dick, as close friends called him, was a founding member of the Writers' Center of Indiana (now Indiana Writers Center). He ran the semi-monthly Poetry Salon, a feedback group for poets, and emceed the monthly An Evening With the Muse, which featured a guest poet and an open mic. He loved to frequent open mics in the city, often garnering respect from spoken-word artists. His collections of poetry include  Richard Pflum: A Dream of Salt (Raintree Press), A Strange Juxtaposition of Parts (Writers' Center Press, Indianapolis), The Haunted Refrigerator and Other Poems (Pudding House Press), Listening With Others: Poems Under the Musical Influence (The Muse Rules), and Some Poems to Be Read Out Loud: New and Selected Poems (Chatter House Press). Besides poetry,...

Underground by Jared Carter       The two children – abruptly shoved off the platform into the path of an oncoming train – are not in that instant crushed by the wheels, but instead dissolved against the event horizon of a black hole suddenly materialized out of another galaxy.       Its unknowable surface accepts each of them. The girl becomes a dove caught by the softest, lightest of nets, the boy a silver fish trapped in a riverbank weir.       The subway tunnel with its overhead coffers, the platform, the people standing along the edge, the train braking to a stop – all of this translates into long filaments of irretrievable data.       Agamemnon announces that the wind has risen, and the Achaeans can now set their sails. Bio: Jared Carter’s sixth collection, Darkened Rooms of Summer , was published in 2014 by the University of Nebraska Press. He lives in Indianapolis

The Desert by Jared Carter       Prolonged exposure to extremes of sun and heat can cause madness, even death, yet there is said to exist one group of nomads who roam the desert unceasingly. Of its members, who have never been studied, only one thing is known.       Before leaving each campsite, they mix quantities of sand with colors extracted from native wildflowers, and spread out a series of vast, intricate diagrams. Such patterns are obscured by the wind within minutes after the tribesmen ride away.              The purpose of these designs is unclear. Thought to be prehistoric in origin, they have never been sketched or photographed. Over the years, the wish to examine them has lured a number of expeditions onto the desert. Their fate is uncertain, for none has ever returned.              Certain adventurers are reported to have withstood the heat and the mirages until they have ...

Traveling by Jared Carter Other musicians take their instruments along. On cross-country flights you see fiddle players who had to buy an extra ticket for the Stradivarius in the seat next to them. They look nervous. It’s different playing piano. Each time you come to a new place, the piano is already there, browsing in the middle of the pasture, a long way from the fence. It’s black, usually, but sometimes roan. Once in a while it’s a buckskin. It’s usually up in years, too. It’s been there a long time, it’s earned the right to graze anywhere it wants. Not like those cows, down by the river, under the cottonwood tree. They move with the shade, all day long. When the sun moves, they move. Not until.  Worn steps lead up to the stage, to the flats of last night’s scenery waiting to be moved back to storage. Underneath the fake-wood flooring the actual surface is concrete. Gray corridors lead to dressing rooms, with doors you have to stoop to get through. The...

May 2 is Independent Bookstore Day. Used by Jared Carter Abandoned, on rough wooden shelves –           dusty, crowded – Volumes bereft, beside themselves,           almost shrouded. Here the gaunt castaways on view,           their faces blurred, Their jackets torn, their binding glue           half cracked, their words A mumble now. The old  Playboy s           are finger-worn; The back room, with its special toys,           still offers porn. Bio:  Jared Carter’s most recent book of poems is  Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems  (University of Nebraska Press). He lives in Indiana.

Hibakusha by Jared Carter Please stay awhile; the evening light           still troubles me. Before it changes into night           I seem to see That street again. Something reveals           itself, and cuts Across the years, breaking the seal           on what I’ve shut Away – that moment when they all           burst into flame And blew on through the paper walls,           calling my name. Bio: Jared Carter's most recent book is Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems (University of Nebraska Press). He lives in Indianapolis.

Livestock by Jared Carter At journey’s end, forced to debark           and follow ramps That funnel them down through the dark,           into a damp, Benighted place, where sharpened knives           await – they go, In single file, their route devised           so none can know In minutes they will all be dead.           They only mind That what keeps prodding them ahead           is from behind. Bio: Jared Carter's most recent book is Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems (University of Nebraska Press). He lives in Indianapolis.

Dillinger by Jared Carter Out of the Biograph, its chill           still lingering, Out of that darkness, and the thrill           such dreams can bring – Into the neon night, her hand           slipping away, And all around you now they stand,           as if to say This is the way it always ends           when bankers rule – The world reduced to dividends,           the blood in pools. Bio: Jared Carter's most recent book is Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems (University of Nebraska Press). He lives in Indianapolis.