I now have one regular patron who sends a monthly contribution to keep this poet alive. Yes, per usual, I'm a poor poet...and for some reason I'm a poor poet in its many meanings...but someone like my patron loves my work. If you become a sustaining patron I can guarantee you'll see writing from me on a regular basis. I do edit my mad. But I don't always hit it out of the park. At least my patrons have a chance to select from all my work...and they become the editors rather than the small-minded who often edit magazines and journals. Poet James Wright,one of his last books, held by two editors for the longest time that his wife Anne took to another publisher who snapped it up and it became a huge success. Now I don't have people like Robert Bly, Don Hall, or their equals I can send my poems to for a review before I put them on the internet or send to any publisher. I believe in opening up my "horde" for the world to critique or love. And it's expensive to send out my work, getting only rejection, so it's money I don't have for food, or the electric bill. Please send what you can via my email: via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.


Thank you to those who have contributed via Paypal to support my writing. My account at Paypal is the same as my email: rikwrybac(at)

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Thursday, June 4, 2015

Fashion Show Gossip in this Kitchen

Look at her beg for the moment
while she twirls around elegantly
Eyes follow this babe
from heel to hump
flat for the fryer and handle

Certainly salted
under pressure for an answer
though the entire performance
had wandered away
in the middle of this gaze

Why is this question posed
in regard to this ground rump
in pink armor
over the spell of a minute
when pleasantries bash loneliness

A hamburger on the stove
is worth more description
than raw memory
as it wisps away
as the phantom of hunger

Fans and camera clicks
in a cycle of burners
up and down to sear the flesh
of one or more cattle
that stomp beneath a spatula

This performance wins the day
from many others who
didn't have the chance
an aloof steer in a brown gown
prancing for the bulls

Here buns on the catwalk
cross a room in review
in and out of nostrils
also the subject of titters
beneath a dark pan covered

Barry G. Wick
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