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New Writings By 

Christine A Perry and Michael Lee Johnson

For All to Know

By Christine A Perry


As time goes by

We learn not to cry So hard

Nor each and everyday

Tears build strength

To hold at bay

The hurt that tries

To come my way


Marked for life

I wear my skin

The masks I wear

Help me fit in


Hold on tight

To a self-that’s true

No need to always

Be so blue

Thinking it Through

By Christine A Perry


The wind whips through all of me

I feel as cold as I can be

Wind buffeting hair into my face

Tears streaming down without a trace

Bereft of all help dear to me

I stand here looking out onto the sea


Where shall I go

What shall I see


If I should flee

Juice Box Girl

(After Midnight Moments)

By Michael Lee Johnson


I'm a juice box girl,

squeeze me, play me

like an accordion,

box-shaped, but gagged edges.

Breathe me inside out,

I'm nude, fruity, fractured,

strawberry melon,

nightshade wine.

Chicago, 3:00 a.m.

somewhere stranded

someone's balcony

memories undefined,

you will find me there

stretched naked, doing

the Electric Slide,

taking morning selfies

upward morning into the sun

then in shutters

closeout pictures

Chiquita bananas,

those Greek lovers

running late,

Little Village, Greektown

so many men's night faces fading out.

Wash cleanse in me.

I'm no Sylvia Plath

in an oven image of death

I resuscitate; I'm still alive.

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