FOUR POEMS by SHONTAY LUNA

ONE SEAGULL


I don’t know

whether seagulls are lost,

or are instead,

a flock of geniuses.

They were doing their

usual arial dance above a

parking lot. Wings fully

arched that dipped

gracefully over and under

each other. Afterwards

they pranced on the ground

in proud, exclusive circles.

All but for one.

That walked toward

an open driver’s car door.

With an empty seat

and the engine running.

 

BUNCH OF WILD WOMEN


the audio full of screech and yell

voices of tight

attire. The smell

of tv ratings boosting the yell

of spandex-laden clothes that tell

too much and spell

too little but yell

on through ignorance too tight.

 

FATHER QUINZAINE


I never knew my father.


Did you know him well?


You kill him?

 

HOW I FEEL ABOUT JOGGING


I'm not crazy about it,

but I'll do it.

Just pay me well.

One million dollars;

in fifteen minute installments.

I'd have to be paid well.

Because all this,

shouldn't jiggle for free.

When it happens,

the Earth quakes and

all is immersed in

movement.

Oh, wait a minute.

That's just me.


I see the "pros"

in any random moment

in any session.

Focused on the sidewalk

ahead and thin.

And I overcome the urge

to smack the hell out of them. Then give

them a sandwich and a ride.

 

Shontay Luna has been a pizza parlor phone clerk, a Peruvian jewelry stand owner, an event server and concessionaire, among other things. She resides in her hometown, the place that is ‘everyone’s kind of town’ and the home of deep-dish pizza. She’s the author of three books—the most recent being To James & Sarah with Love – Poetry Based on Slang of 1920s through 1940s—with work also appearing in The Literary Nest, Silver Birch Press’s “Wearing the Mask” series, and Full House Literary Magazine, among others. Work forthcoming in the Tallgrass Writers Guild ‘Play’ anthology, Sweety Cat Press’s “Beautiful: In the Eye of the Beholder,” and Olney Magazine.