Rick Doyle
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You prefer
Rick Doyle horseradish to mustardturnip to maple syrup Dutchman’s breeches to hawkweeda ditch full of asters to a field of daisies head of tide to estuarytomorrow’s eclipse to last year’s comet a broken promise to a broken-backed threata heartfelt obscenity to a misleading songa bitter truth to a brass-belled anthem a feathered doubt to a Continue reading
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The Silent Era
Rick Doyle There was a time when Max was silent as a moon,as a satellite in transit behind the lunar pebble,as a man whose mouth is shoveled full of earth. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t speakin public — oh, no! He couldn’t whispersweet nothings, couldn’t utter a prayer,couldn’t even tell a knock-knock joke.And this Continue reading
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Solitary
Rick Doyle I am a manI am a man reading a story in a newspaperabout another man who languishesin solitary confinement whose age is thatof my own son. Rick Doyle, poet and playwright, practices law in Downeast Maine. His poetry has been published in numerous journals, including Kaleidotrope and The Cafe Review, and won a Continue reading
The Chaos Section Poetry Project 