Dashboard Horus: A Bird's Eye View of the Universe

  Colonel Kurtz Slows to a Stop Dr. Robert Hudson has seen a lot of patients who’ve said he’s the only person that listens to them. Some accuse him of listening just because he gets paid to do it. Technically that’s true, but he knows he’d do it for free. People have good stories. Hudson hasn’t owned a television since 2006. He says there’s no point. The stories told in his office are the best entertainment. And Clay Chalmers’ story, he thought, was pretty entertaining. In their first session Clay told Hudson he didn’t have anyone to listen to his innermost thoughts anymore. His parents had died young, he’d never said how, so Hudson suggested Clay write his thoughts down and send them to himself. “I don’t really believe in the mail system,” Clay said. Hudson rolled his eyes. “Tell the truth, I don’t really believe in listeners anymore either.” Clay wrote the letter anyway, and the following week he brought it to the office. “Open it,” the psychologist said. Clay did and, without he...

Bio: T amara Madison is the author of the chapbooks The Belly Remembers (Pearl Editions) and Along the Fault Line (Picture Show Press), and three full-length volumes of poetry, Wild Domestic , and Moraine (Pearl Editions) and Morpheus Dips His Oar (Sheila-Na-Gig). Her work has appeared in Chiron Review, The Worcester Review , A Year of Being Here , One Art , The Writer’s Almanac, and many other publications. Her memoir-in-poems, Russian Honeymoon (forthcoming, Fernwood Press), chronicles the 15 months she spent as a very young bride as part of a US Information Agency exhibit in the USSR. Time Zones and Soldiers In two weeks I have crossed so many time zones: European, Pacific, Eastern Standard. Dazed by weeks of jet leg, I hardly know where I am. Now I’m surrounded by so many new faces, people I’ll soon know well. I don’t even try to learn their names. But at Heathrow, I spy Frank Zappa waiting near us in white bell bottoms, familiar mustache dripping down his chin. Pan Am to Mo...

Fin Hall, International Beat Poet Laureate (2024-2025) is from New Pitsligo, in North East Scotland. Hall a multi-published poet, filmmaker, producer, editor, curator, publisher, and performance poet. He has published over 700 people in his anthologies.   Coney Island Avenue Cobbler Surf Avenue onwards to Brighton Beach After the compulsory dogs at Nathan’s Lipstick, roller coaster smear Remembering that you said you never realised the roller coaster actually went up and down.  Borsch for lunch, with Russian family diners, Gifts for the head of he table  Kiss on cheek, mafia style, Just off the boardwalk Overhead like the French Connection The rattle, rattle of the trains  Standing halfway across the road  Just watching.  Listening.  Old guys in doorways, Looking like they have been there and seen it all Sidewalk smiling  Busy and bustling  Not far from the Vostochny Bazaar  Another side street FedEx delivery Where the elderly key ring c...

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her poetry is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for Pushcarts, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/   The Cuban Dancers His hand was so rough, the Cuban dancer. I held it as we twirled at the after show party. Palms, backs, fingers al l so rough. I held his partner’s hands. Hers were the same rough rough,  rough.  Such delicacy  of performance with hands of hard labour. How could that be? © Lynn White (First published in The Gorko Gazette, October 2024)