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      July 20, 2016L.A. RiverJack Cooper

      I like how the mallard ducklings
      goofy and weak
      waddle up the cement incline
      then slide into this runoff
      of lawn sprinklers and car washes
      and how the great blue heron
      seems to be teleported here
      from the Jurassic
      to look for extinct species of fish
      but mostly I like the way
      the little birds
      fly in and out of the barbed wire
      with only a smear of water
      to keep them singing

      from #52 - Summer 2016

      Jack Cooper

      “As one soul in this city, I am moved by its stories and driven by its fury. I am an Angeleno poet not because I live here but because I suffer L.A.’s sadness and celebrate its accomplishments, because I struggle to find who I am, what is mine and where I belong in this city of angels and devils and aliens, real and imagined, in this city, like every city, where life is as much a shared experience as it is our very own. Poetry helps.”

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