by Toni Ortner | Sep 29, 2021 | Poems
From DH There it is, the Douglas DC-6 SE-BDY / the instrument of my destruction. The mechanics are doing the last checks of the engines, but men have no knowledge of Divine Intention much less His last minute interventions. This is an ordinary day of September l8 in...
by Toni Ortner | Sep 29, 2021 | Poems
Strike Out The man in the pale brown linen suit struts across the room. He scratches his head and lights a Marlboro cigarette.It is so warm he removes his jacket.He is surrounded by maps and charts and lines and screens. His job is statistical analysis, and he has an...
by Toni Ortner | Sep 29, 2021 | Poems
It was six am Two men in dirty overalls were digging a hole. They air was cold. One man smoked a cigarette; the other sipped coffee from a paper cup. The men dug. They stopped and peered into the hole. They stopped and dug again. It was Sunday. Children ran around the...
by Toni Ortner | Sep 29, 2021 | Poems
You must walk even when you step over severed heads and hands. Don’t be an idiot throw out the orange pills weep for the dead. Look at the Real Estate section of the papers at homes worth millions of dollars and the six caret diamond rings look at the high rise...
by Toni Ortner | Aug 2, 2020 | Books
Toni Ortner’s Daybook III, Morning Is Long Since Gone infuses her inner life’s dreamscape, her singing tree with realities that scream over the land. Ortner’s surreal meditations in corridors persistent with memory evoke a world of redemption shattered in the ashes of...
