Flying Island

Top Tear Haiku      after Ethridge Knight garbage truck backs up tuesday morning 6 AM early chirping bird two used syringes dandelions in mown grass their seeds blown away parking lot puddle mirror, mirror in asphalt ocean of ego his crooked smile on the same side of my face photos of my dad Tony Brewer is executive director of the spoken word stage at the 4th Street Arts Festival and his books include: The Great American Scapegoat (2006), Little Glove in a Big Hand (2010), Hot Type Cold Read (2013), Homunculus (2019), and The History of Projectiles (2021). Tony has been offering Poetry On Demand at coffeehouses, museums, cemeteries, churches, bars, and art and music festivals for over 10 years, and he is one-third of the poetry performance group Reservoir Dogwoods.

thankless by Tony Brewer I ignore every spare-change addict I encounter except when I have post-restaurant doggy bag. I hope they like Thai food but expect them to throw it away – it’s not money and I have no booze or drugs or sex in my pocket for them tonight. I don’t discriminate. I hate money, the wall between who we are and what we want. Some people only know how to make bricks – be mortar. Mental illness reduced to cardboard sign like politics squeezed onto bumper stickers. It works but then the light turns green. There is nothing to be taught in that moment of potential exchange. Nothing gained or saved or prolonged except a great societal guilt trip – that we measure our level of civility according to how we treat our least – that these unfortunates might be damaged or lost or running – that desperation has no home or destination but a look. Wrinkled ones and coins passed hand to Styrofoam act as mile marker...

O’Hare by Tony Brewer His eyes say he was never a boy. Father swats built confidence. Backhanded mom for sass. And all the bullies bigger than him. Now he pulls down seven figures taxed down to six. Earned scowl gouged out of his face. Broad shoulders chiseled from a gray suit and blocks of flipped real estate. Deals struck, drinks poured — boom, done. Today, third in the first-class line and pissed he’s not in front. Sizing up #1 and #2. Pretty sure he could take them silently by smartphone and contract. An elderly couple pre-boarding brushes past him with their oxygen tanks. DeKalb cap and floral muumuu. He considers acquiring and auctioning their every asset. But he’s boarding now ahead of me. The unfair world back on his side. Bio: Tony Brewer is a poet, spoken word performer, sound effects artist, typesetter, and event producer from Bloomington, Indiana. He chairs the Writers Guild at Bloomington and is executive director of the Spoken Word Stage at the...