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featured poets & artists


raud kennedy

lives in portland, oregon. raud@raudkennedy.com


House of Cards

“Hello?” I answer.

Telephone silence.

“Hello?” Again but with false cheer.


I hang up.

Every few afternoons,

during the trysting hour,

the same call.

Ring, ring, but only quiet.

My wife and I joke

that it's a ghost,

but I know better.

It's someone who wants

to hear our voices.

A past indiscretion,

hers, maybe mine,

don't know and don't want to.

I'm worried. Instead of listening,

they'll speak, and my wife and I

will look at each other

and never be the same.



Stranger in the Mirror

These days it's all about quitting,

quit smoking, quit drinking, eating,

sleeping late. Old habits

that helped me know who I was.

One by one, gone. Now sometimes

when I shave in the morning

I wonder who that is

behind the steam on the mirror.

Where's the old friend

I had so much fun with?



That Perfect Moment

Waiting, watching the mosquito

whine against the window pane.

Each morning, this'll be the day

my perfect moment comes

where everything will go right

and walking will feel

like skating on freshly Zambonied ice.

But by night when I fold my pillow

and thump my head into it,

I tell myself, tomorrow, it'll come,

my perfect moment.


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