One Sentence Poems

Steve Klepetar A Shower of Flame Surely there is some dislocation here where tongues burn at the breaking of new leaves or some provocation where robins peck sadly in the dry yards, for when travelers arrive hungry and cold shuddering in blankets and rags what can we offer but stone walls, curses, archers, and a […]

Steve Klepetar Theology We now know the sun is a star eating itself from the inside as it burns above a sky we perceive as blue because tiny molecules of air scatter short blue waves of light in every direction, but spring still seems to creep in slowly in this northern zone, rising from ooze, […]

Steve Klepetar By the River Two girls, at most sixteen,  pink hair, blue hair, frayed jean shorts, tee shirts with stenciled names and faces of bands, thin arms glowing in pale sunlight, talk softly, quiet children awed by mallards swimming in ripples not fifty yards from shore.  Steve Klepetar lives near the Mississippi River in […]

Steve Klepetar My body and yours are two bells ringing on a winter morning as if sound could flow in our veins, warming us with its clarion heat. Steve Klepetar believes that those who can write one-sentence poems should be subjected to background checks.

Steve Klepetar Beethoven, they say died with his ears turned inward toward flame. Steve Klepetar admires those who can write a good one sentence poem.

Steve Klepetar The Coffee Drinker’s Son He works in shade, dragging a hoe around a bed of lilies as she sips broken-hearted, wishing to be a frog clinging to mud, green body hidden in watery weeds. Steve Klepetar drinks coffee and sometimes wishes he were a frog.

Steve Klepetar At the Border As a man crushes his cigarette, a woman holding a child sings a gentle, guttural song in language I don’t understand. Steve Klepetar is a minimalist (sometimes).