Author: Deborah C. Segal

Publications include: The Skins of Change: fourteen young poets, Aldebaran Review #17, 1975 Natalie's Story: A Raincheck for Jack Kerouac, MCTP, 2013 1975, MCTP, 2019 Borderlands and Lines, Another Seagull Productions, 2019 Edwin in the Embrace of Entropy, Another Seagull Productions, 2024 Work appears in: Voices 2023, Cold River Press, 2023 New Generation Beats 2023, National Beat Poetry Foundation, 2023 Night Owl Narrative (A Cajun Mutt Rag) # 2 2024 Deborah's work has been performed at: • The Phoenix Theatre, 414 Mason Street, San Francisco, California by Off Broadway West • Mutiny Radio, 2781 21st Street, San Francisco, California by Versatile Media SF Deborah has been featured at: • Time To Arrive, online open mic • 1428 Poets, 1428 Haight Street,

Crumpled Passages

Posted on by Deborah C. Segal 

Loss is a washed out highway.
A crumbling passage with no egress.

“Why?” is the moaning of the wind. There
is no reason, “What if ?” is the barking

sea lions, the keening of circling hawks.
Grief is at low tide and soon silvery shell fish

howl. Hear them? Moon moves and there is nothing
one can do to affect its trajectory. Acceptance

is the lukewarm thermos of coffee on the butcher
block. I drink it, therefore I am. Amusing myself

with wordplay. Spoofing my mother's favorite philosopher.
And, his name escapes me. Kant? Sartre? Oh. Yeah. deCartes.


©2024 Deborah C. Segal

Grandmothers Boogie In Place

Posted on by Deborah C. Segal

by Deborah C. Segal

Throw wishes
to the breeze
at the threshold
soon monsoons
will resume
Jackhammers and fireworks
have stopped for now
What do you do
with a reprieve
from hell?
Rose petals
and love of fate are mine
bright eyes fill with water
mockingbird sings
Wings circling
in a Wu Wei way,
old sun descends
at night’s edge
Cymbals
on my fingers
bells on my feet
Sunday wears a wire gown and spun glass gloves
wherever grandmothers boogie in place.
Spirals turn and the dark rabbit twitches:
“No time to explain, can you understand?”
I cannot grasp a riot of perfumes.

1975

Posted on by Deborah C. Segal
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Poetry from the seventies published in 2019. It dropped right before the pandemic of 2020.

Cover art by Laura Lackey. Look for my new novella entitled Edwin in the Embrace of Entropy (release date TBA.) Laura Lackey has four black and white line drawings in it.

crossing a river on stones too far apart and the reader falls in

Posted on by Deborah C. Segal

Put some blood on the page
how’d she get from this room to the street?
She wore a black leather mini and mules
she flipped a middle finger at the inner critic
she hit the edge of control and it fell into place
all she needed was a wrench and she’s not shy
If you lose the scent find the door where the muse lives
keep a line in the water to keep the nuts and bolts in line
what I’m trying to say to clarify
readers owe the writer nothing
steer clear until you have written the end
dead leaves drop I regret a lot
and your book was one of the best I’ve read.
Tell me: what is it about a passage that brings tears?
A letter, seventeen pages, single spaced
upside down in the stillness of vodka alley