The Sound of Sugar....Shangrila Willy

HUNGER

came down from the hills
stealing in through a slight break
in the fence, a thoughtless day’s work
of forgetting. He slinks round the back way
looking for scraps I’ve left. Rough-furred
and bony under hand, I’d lost sight of him
in summer’s bustling seeds and furrows.
Now, as the days thin,
pared sliver by sliver at twilight’s
widening rim, I think of his warm burr
curled at my spine. I begin leaving him bowls
of empty and scraped plates of watching.
Soon, he is my sleek companion again,

his footsteps dogging mine.

About the Poet:

Shangrila Willy is a collector of words, shoes, fables, and other em­broidered things. She lives in Baltimore with her lugubrious Great Dane and her husband who mucks about in brains. She has most recently been pub­lished in Pear Noir!, Rattle, and Gargoyle; and has work forthcoming in Mea­sure, Magma, and cream city review.

About the Sound of Sugar:
We’ve loved reading the work that we’ve published (clearly), so now we want an opportunity to better hear our contributors. We will feature an audio recording of a poem from one of our seven issues, read by the poet and updated every couple of weeks. This an open invitation to all contributors from any of our issues, we were delighted to print your work, now we’re eager to hear it. 

The Sound of Sugar....Juan J. Morales

Boy Scouts vs. Zombies

In my elementary school

gymnasium, Scout Master tells us

to do our civic duty

with sticks we sharpened

and pockets knives we aren’t supposed

to know how to use yet.

There are no merit badges for this.

We are never prepared

for parents and teachers possessed

with the undead gait

that rips through school to eat children

and anyone in between.

If I survive, I will join

the future leaders of a hellish country,

rebuilt by the orphans who sob

for forgiveness to their hungry-for-flesh

families we execute

against our will.

I don’t want to wear

this uniform anymore. I don’t want

to think about being

loyal to my den or being

a good citizen by putting down

our bit up Scout Master.

I will not think about my absent mother

or my reanimated father

attacking towards me. I will

pretend I get a pin or patch for this. I will

act like it’s not him anymore

and other lies to keep myself alive.

About the Poet:

Juan J. Morales’ collection of poems, Friday and the Year That Followed, won the 2005 Rhea and Seymour Gorsline Poetry Competition and was pub­lished in 2006 by Bedbug Press. His poetry has also appeared in Acentos Re­view, Many Mountains Moving, PALABRA, Poet Lore, Washington Square, Zone 3, and other journals.

About the Sound of Sugar:

We’ve loved reading the work that we’ve published (clearly), so now we want an opportunity to better hear our contributors. We will feature an audio recording of a poem from one of our seven issues, read by the poet and updated every couple of weeks. This an open invitation to all contributors from any of our issues, we were delighted to print your work, now we’re eager to hear it.