selected past writing at 42opus


The Angler's Lot by ANDREW LUX

We met in the apartment of accident. You carried weapons: a pen, plastic bags, a grocery receipt; necessary means of transience, unnecessary hubris. My tongue was barbed.

8 March 2005 | poetry, prose poem


The Demands of Fading Light by RUSTIN LARSON

We want the gray old

winter to climb down

through the smoking pines

astride his white mule

to forgive us each separately.

7 July 2006 | poetry


Under the Oak by D. H. LAWRENCE

You, if you were sensible,

When I tell you the stars flash signals, each one dreadful,

You would not turn and answer me

"The night is wonderful."

1 November 2007 | poetry, classic, rhyme



I am awake this morning and in the next room I think my sister Kelly is still asleep. I think that she is sleeping but who knows because she is not sending signals to me anymore. This is the story.

2 March 2002 | fiction, flash fiction


To the Same by JOHN MILTON

Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes, though clear,

   To outward view, of blemish or of spot,

   Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot;

   Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear

Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,

   Or man, or woman.

8 July 2008 | poetry, classic, rhyme, sonnet

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