The Ovi

Night is drifters,sugar rats, street walkers, pickpockets, pimps,insects, Lake Michigan perch,neon signs blinking half the bulbsburned out.

Saskatchewansky,just a preview of love,chip off an edge ofprairiechip an edge offwinter-and openingmultiple eyestoward spring.They-lovers, find themselvesnear evening bush fire-great seal fish and open lake,cuddle together-so wonderful there-where she comes from,where did she go tofrom here.

The angels of wings are always in flightbe the devil or archangel Michael.I’m a hawk, I’m a night owl nightbarroom flights, fighter,seeing eyes that eye me contact,not blind, a rhythm of sensuality.I take my shower, deep breath,scrub good off my skin, breathein the single night, air alone.These shadows highway unknownJesus crosses my night pathJesus crosses … More Restless Hawk (V2) by Michael Lee Johnson

Mount Pleasant Cemetery (V2)(Toronto, Ontario Canada) Gravediggers uprooting casketswith sharp, steel shovels-each slicing step downwardthrough nerve-rooted earthcooper pennies jingle in changepouches dangling by their sides. They chat casually of Jesus,His painless resurrectionfrom the sealed tomb,money-changers being chasedaway from God’s holy temple.

Whispers from the Grave(Heart attack 50 years of age) What happened to 20 acres of farmland tilted toward sun angles,those sharp stone edges cool fall comesfrost fields covered taking ownership of rented, abused, abandoned land−10 years Phil has been gone, DeKalb, Illinois farmer. Did he find salvation in those gold cornfields?October orange colors, hayrides, and pumpkin … More Whispers from the Grave by Michael Lee Johnson 2017-04-30

Emperor Penguins never set feet on land,straight up their feet on ice, tuxedo’s with short feathersoverlapped, waterproofed, inner down layers insulated with air.Heads bobble fat fannies waddle, the march to the homeland begins.70 miles the clan walks and slides away from the sea and back to the sea.70 miles into the darkest, driest and coldest … More The March of the Emperor Penguins by Michael Lee Johnson 2021-09-08

Everything is redin the kingdom of the queen.Matador hat with barnacles,witch white hair to the shoulders,tickling the breast.In her eyes are the blood shotof many vampires;in her heart the daggersof many soldiers.Five inky fingerscross her throatlike an ill-fitted necklace.Her dress is like heart charms,scales of fish drippingblood toward her toes.Withy, twists around her throat.Anglers of … More Everything Red for the Queen by Michael Lee Johnson 2021-08-13

I own a gate to this prairiethat ends facing the Rocky Mountains.They call it Alberta,trail of endless blue sky,asylum of endless winters,hermitage of indolent retracted sun.Deep freeze drips haphazardly into spring.Drumheller, dinosaur badlands, dried bones,ancient hoodoos sculpt high, prairie toadstools.Alberta highway 2 opens the gateway of endless miles.Travel weary I stop by roadsides, ears open … More Alberta Bound (V3) by Michael Lee Johnson 2017-03-14