One Sentence Poems

Steve Klepetar Reflection  When I glimpsed you in the mirror on that night of clouds and dark stars your image danced to a silent tune a song that echoed through my skull the shadow sound of trumpets poised above a city about to fall. Steve Klepetar follows the news obsessively, which helps explains his cheery […]

Steve Klepetar I too I too have a secret history, a self I keep locked away in the dark where it feeds always, trolling the waters, a shark gliding near the surface of memory and thought, striking at shadows. Steve Klepetar is thrilled, because he never expected to have a day, never mind whole week. This […]

Steve Klepetar Entropy I remember it all like a dream, how slowly we crumbled, waking after long sleep, standing, stretching as the city grew and changed, sliding into rubble at the end. Having spent five months living in Australia, Steve Klepetar has had two summers, which leaves him both sunburned and confused.  This poem is […]

Steve Klepetar Future My mother read the future as she mopped, seeing all our lives unwind, reflected in slick puddles on the kitchen floor. Steve Klepetar believes the future lies before us.

Steve Klepetar Cassandra Cursed and breathing darkness, she dreams of temples and a burning rain, while her tongue, blistered raw with prophecy, muddies the rhythms of flame. As a small boy, Steve Klepetar met the great logician Kurt Gödel at Princeton, but not much rubbed off.

Steve Klepetar Solstice  As summer begins, light travels the trails of the universe, curving around to wheat fields where crows gather in fury at this late hour dusk, beating their black wings. Steve Klepetar is a little worried about his future.

Steve Klepetar One Day Nothing occurs but sky, that blue illusion, and a white light headache, tightness in the upper back snaking slowly into pain, and behind that, music – sea songs rising from a dozen throats, dolphins half-submerged in a tidal flow, and later broad ochre rocks gathered like elephants, bulbous and stoical in […]

Steve Klepetar Rock ‘n Roll Music Behind this guy fishing off the rocks not far from the green lighthouse a blue pickup blares Chuck Berry – “Maybelene, why cain’t you be true” – and I want to tell him the noise will scare away the fish but I look and he’s reeling them in piling […]