TAR
IAN RANDALL WILSON is the managing editor of the poetry journal 88.  Recent work has appeared in The Alaska Quarterly Review, The Gettysburg Review, The North American Review , Spinning Jenny and Spork.  His first fiction collection, Hunger and Other Stories, was published by Hollyridge Press. Ian is an executive at MGM Studios in charge of screen credits.
WITHOUT PHOTOSYNTHESIS

After the sun was erased
the five stages that come
with all great loss.
Some combined anger
with greed and imported sun lamps.
The price of tanning beds rose out of control.
We attached new meanings to blindness,
began to discern the eight shades of dark.
Clouds contributed.
We got used to eating mushrooms
as a main course.
In time, as expected, all the green
things perished and even the atmosphere
strained to contain us.
I spent my last days
in bed with the Beloved.
With night all around us
sex was a constant condition.
Finally, we begged each other
for a different kind of close,
began telling stories
and always the end kept changing.


Ian Randall Wilson

  


A REUNION OF FELLOW TRUCKERS

A national gathering of oxygen molecules gives the atmosphere weight. For
those of us still breathing, we must abide by the decision.  My family
turns to water and flees through the nearest drain.  After that, the
Beloved begins her collection of salt.  That she has forgotten how to cry
does not impede her progress.  In the bed by the wall the new dog has taken
the place of the old dog.  Both of them howled after a loss they could not
describe.  This afternoon we begin building a new world from a bunch of
dots written on used napkins.  I worry the paper will not endure.  It's a
crazy design all these uncommitted lines.  Without a plan we will come to
understand life.  In a changing world each night I drive past a bashful
marina on an unreliable road in an angry car.  Maybe tomorrow it will be an
unreliable marina on an angry road in a bashful car.  Even the trees are
snapping.



Ian Randall Wilson