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Night-damsel dials 1-800-
Knights shining armor on the inside
where it counts, like flowers on a Monday,
love in between and after sex,

Counts one fairy dial tone
two fairy god mother,

and gets the answering machine:
“Fresh out of darlings, sweet hearts, and dears…
Leave your name and number…” the days

you’ve been alone, tired,
and waiting for the glass slipper to fit.


The Little Angel on Your Shoulder

has hung herself from your top button.

Her wings flutter, beat against your chest

until, finally, like popcorn in the kitchen,

she’s done. But the movie is too good

to pause.

The little devil on your shoulder slaps

a scissors in your hand and begs you

to cut the line. “She’s a good friend of mine”,

he says,


The microwave beeps a reminder.

Burnt popcorn.

Dead angel.

We all have time to kill.


On The Midnight Lawn

Out from the crowd,
She came.

And the rest moved away
like disinterested cattle.

You’ve found me.

I’m here.

And we held without give.

Not a feather heavierfor love on the midnight lawn.


Stuart Pease received a Bachelor of Arts in English from Saint John’s University (MN) and is currently enrolled in Hamline University’s Master of Fine Arts program in Creative Writing. He lives in St. Paul, Minnesota.